





1 



0 



Class _ ?Z3 
Book ' 0 

Copyright N“_ 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 





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V’, 


OUT OF TUNE 


BY 

MYRA M. SMITH 

II 


Author of 

‘‘DEMANDS OF SOCIETY/^ Etc., Etc. 



> j 

3 > 

3 3 ) 


Boston, Mass. 


MAYHEW PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1906 





liBRARY of CONGRF.SS 
Two CP!>ies Received 

AUG 21 1906 


CLASS XXc, No.' 

/^30CO 

COPY a. 


Copyright 1906, by 
MYRA M. SMITH 
Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 



«> cci 

* - • 


DEDICATION. 

To MY FRIENDS, Mr. AND MrS. MaYHEW AND 
Baby Theo. jr. 








CONTENTS. 


Chapter 

I. 

II. 

III. 

IV. 
V. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 
"XV. 
XVI. 


XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 

XXII. 

XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 

XXVIII. 


Page 


Dissonance i 

Morriton House 8 

The Weak Confound the Wise.. 12 

A Young Logician 21 

A Trying Situation 26 

A Case of Reciprocity 35 

The Fairy with Magic Wand 43 

An Unexpected Appearance 49 

Aunt Lida’s Invitation 56 

Little Unie 62 

The Fairies’ Abode 67 

A Mountain Episode 71 

Keeping a Secret 76 

“Lotus Leaves” 81 

“Who IS She”? 88 

“The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ 

MEN 

Gang aft a-gley.” 94 

Violet’s Confession 99 

The Missing Note 109 

Violet’s First Opportunity 116 

Mary Arthurs 121 

“One Good Turn Deserves An- 
other” 127 

The Hand of Fate 136 

Moreland Memories 144 

The Mysterious Cousin Lan 153 

“ Cast Thy Bread upon the Waters ” 157 

“Wonders Will Never Cease!” 163 

Waves of Joy 170 

Wedding Bells 174 


XXIX. An Ocean Concert i8o 

XXX. Think You Have Saved My Rea- 
son’’ 184 

XXXI. Tell Me ALL ABOUT Her 189 

XXXH. ^‘Thou Shalt Find it after Many 

Days” 197 

XXXHI. Cousin Lan’s Message 203 

XXXIV. Mrs. Butler’s Resentment 209 

XXXV. “I Have Come to Comfort You!”. . . 215 

XXXVI. An Angel at the Fireside 221 

XXXVII. The Announcement of the Marriage 2 28 

XXXVHI. The Celebration at Happy Haven . . 233 

XXXIX. Retrospection 240 

XL. Unison 246 


CHAPTER I. 

Dissonance. 

The light of a beautiful May morning fell brightly upon 
one of the most flourishing Eastern cities on the Atlantic 
slope. The day was so beautiful, it brought cheer and 
comfort to many hearts. Old and young, alike, felt its ex- 
hilarating influence; the busy man stepped more briskly 
to his office; the child bounded on its way to school with a 
lighter heart; even the newsboys felt its power, and called 
out their papers in a clearer staccato. 

The spring had arrived this year as it was marked by the 
calendar; it was the earliest that had been known for many 
seasons. The mild southern breezes had wholly effaced 
the remnants of an icy winter. Nature had clothed the 
barren fields of the suburbs, in verdant robes woven with 
bright-hued flowers, fairer than any device of man. Merry 
songsters poured out their notes of joy from leafy dells, 
filling the air with melody. Myriads of tiny insects min- 
gled their low, sweet hum, with the murmuring brooks, 
and swelled the mighty chorus till a grand diapason rang 
throughout the land. Nature’s vast orchestra was attuned 
with perfect rhythm, and sent forth in unrivaled measures, 
the praises of an omniscient Leader. The seed time had 
come, bringing its buoyant hopes; and the farmer, upon 
the uplands, was turning over the soil burying the tiny 
seeds, in expectation of a rich harvest. 

But, all tiiese charms of nature fell powerless upon a 
restless maiden. The balmy spring, with its bright sunshine, 
and green fields, its budding flowers, and singing birds, 
touched no responsive chord in the heart of Violet Morriton. 
The sweet harmonies of an awakened earth made no melody 
within her soul; they only served to incite the struggling 
spirit to greater activity. The glorious light of heaven 
which flooded the room was unnoticed, by the fair occupant. 


2 


OUT OF TUNE. 


Even the mild, southern breeze, stealing through the open 
casement, rustling the silken draperies, fanning the troubled 
brow, and tossing the straying tresses about in its grasp, 
gave her no consciousness of its presence. 

A letter, which the morning^s mail had brought, en- 
grossed the mind to the exclusion of all other subjects. 
To the eye of the casual observer, there was nothing in the 
correspondence to cause such an intense state of preoccupa- 
tion ; but, to the recipient who read between the lines, what 
was not permitted for others, there was sufficient ground for 
great anxiety. Violet had eagerly torn open the envelope, 
taken out the letter expecting to receive some pleasing in- 
formation. She read it so hastily, at first, she did not 
fully comprehend all its details; a second time, she slowly 
scanned the lines, with a disappointed look, thinking, per- 
haps, her eyes might have led her astray; a third time, she 
carefully noted its contents, reading the lines aloud, with 
the utmost precision : 

‘‘My dear Violet: — 

“I regret, exceedingly, to write you that I shall be unable 
to accompany you on the proposed European trip, as we 
had arranged. Since I saw you, when all our plans seemed 
to have been matured, and everything promised a most en- 
joyable outing, many little things have arisen as a hinder- 
ance; I have been able, however, to surmount them all, 
till this last most imperative one. 

“Aunt Annie Vaughan has had a severe attack of pleurisy; 
she has been very ill nearly a month, and at times, we have 
had serious doubts of her recovery. I rejoice that now 
she is slowly gaining, though still very weak. Her physi- 
cians recommend a change of scene and climate, to fully 
restore the wasted system. It has been decided that she 
will spend the summer at Saratoga Springs, on account of 
its healing waters, and pure air. She thought the change 
might be beneficial, if I could be with her, though she did 
not mention it, thinking she might deprive me of the in- 


OUT OF TUNE. 


3 


tended ocean trip. As soon as I learned the situation, I 
immediately told her, at the Doctor’s suggestion, that I 
would gladly accompany her, and remain through the sum- 
mer. I am extremely sorry to disappoint you, dear Vi, but 
know that under the existing circumstances you would 
wish me to do as I have done, and that your generous heart 
would have led you in the same way that I have been led. 

^‘Aunt Annie has been so kind and indulgent, watching 
over my life with a mother’s interest, that I feel as though 
whatever little kindness I may be able to render her would 
be no sacrifice. Only those who have been deprived of a 
mother’s careful protection can appreciate the wealth of 
love which Auntie has showered upon me. No thought 
of any recompense for the great care and tender solicitude 
has prompted me to spend the summer with her, only the 
knowledge that I can, in a measure, alleviate her sufferings, 
and loneliness, and help brighten the dreary days of an 
invalid. As far as I am personally concerned, it is imma- 
terial, whether I am with you viewing the wonders of the 
old world, at home with my loved ones, or with Auntie; 
I trust I shall be in the right place, and know I shall be 
happy in making others so. 

‘‘I learn, also, that my decision enables Nora, her maid, 
to spend two months with her parents in Scotland; they 
had written her to come home, that they might see her once 
more while they lived; she had not replied, she was so 
perplexed about being in both places at the same time, as 
she was inclined. You know, Vi, how utterly impossible 
it is for mortals to be ubiquitous, if they do attempt it! Im- 
agine, if you can, such faithfulness, that one would hesitate 
to take a vacation after serving twenty years. It quite 
equals that of the patriarch Jacob serving so untiringly for 
his Rachel. I think your name of ‘Nora the faithful’ 
most appropriate. Nora gave me her blessing, when she 
learned that I would care for her mistress, and gladly sent 
the cheering news to the anxious McNeils. She will go 
with us to the Springs; remain a short time till we are fairly 
settled, and then sail for the Scottish Highlands. 


4 


OUT OF TUNE. 


‘‘The arrangement seems to be very satisfactory on all 
sides; the Doctor will make us a short visit, if his practice 
permits. Each of the girls have different plans for the 
summer. Ruth expects to spend the month of August, 
with a Vassar friend at the Adirondacks, and both will look 
in upon us on their way. Hilda takes an outing at Bar 
Harbor, Old Orchard, and other seaside resorts in Maine, 
with Cousin Louise, in July; aftenvards, she will return, 
and care for the Doctor during my absence. 

“I think one great cause of Auntie’s despondency was 
the dread of having me so far away exposed to the ‘ perils of 
the deep; ’ and though sorry to disappoint you, I am pleased 
to be with her. 

“Dear Violet, I find the note which I intended to be only 
a short one is lengthening into a volume, and I must refrain 
from further regrets. Yet, in closing I would mention the 
fact that Bee Moreland is staying with her parents, at the 
old homestead. You may have learned that she has been 
living in a very secluded manner during the past year, hav- 
ing been deprived, by death, of two dear ones. Her hus- 
band died of paralysis after an illness of a few weeks. He 
committed his fondly cherished mother to the tender care 
of his devoted wife who promised to alleviate her sorrows, 
and watch over her remaining years. A few short months 
released Bee from the pleasing promise. The loving 
mother grieved so deeply over the loss of her only child, 
the tension of the nerves grew, more and more, relaxed 
making the frail threads of life so weak, the heart, that 
mighty shuttle of mortal machinery, could no longer perform 
its functions. One beautiful Sabbath evening, at sunset, 
she departed to join the loved ones in the home beyond. 

“I think Bee would answer your needs in every respect, 
if she could be persuaded to accompany you. She is a 
thorough conversationalist, both in French and German, 
and would be of invaluable service, as she has visited all 
places of interest on the continent. Though you always 
kept her at a distance, she was one of your admirers, and 


OUT OF TUNE. 


5 


I think might be induced to go with you, as she has no ties 
to prevent, if you were to inform her of the situation, and 
ask her to fill my place. 

‘‘I trust this announcement will in no wise diconcert 
you, or cause any alteration in the original plans; only 
invite Beatrice to accompany you, and I can safely promise 
one of the brightest, and most enjoyable outings of your 
life. That you may have a fair voyage, and a pleasant 
trip is the most sincere wish of your loving friend, 

Mary Arthurs.’’ 

S. Let me know your decision in regard to Bee; 
also, whether she accepts; and once more, in closing I 
would express the deepest of regrets at my inability to be 
with you. Good-bye. M. A.” 

‘‘Just what I might have expected! Nothing more or 
less! I might have known that my plans would end in 
failure! Life has always brought me failures, and disasters. 
Truly there is nothing sure in the world, only death, and, 
even that one cannot have when he wishes; it usually steals 
upon us unawares. What a poor, blind, trusting idiot I 
have been to imagine a happy summer was in the prospec- 
tive with Mary. Surely the Fates are unpropitious, and the 
trip must be postponed. Well, submission, in my case, is 
not easy, nor to be desired,” she exclaimed, as she tossed 
the letter upon the table, and begun pacing the floor with 
impatient strides. Faster and faster, rushed the disap- 
pointed girl till she sank exhausted into the depths of a 
luxurious easy chair. Many moments glided swiftly, and 
quietly away; but, she gave no heed to the flight of time; 
she was too much engaged in the entertainment of anxious 
forebodings surging through, the throbbing brain. At 
length she broke the silence, saying, “I am thankful for 
one thing, that I do not possess the spirit of sacrifice which 
rules Mary. I have no doubt her Aunt is convalescent, 
and needs recruiting, at the Springs ; but, why Mary should 
be obliged to become her attendant, and companion through 


6 


OUT OF TUNE. 


the whole summer, I cannot conceive. Moreover, I know 
she was anticipating a pleasant sojourn; and, really, she 
needs recruiting herself, judging from the many cares which 
she has borne during the past winter; though, it is always 
so with unselfish persons; they are never appreciated. We 
accept their willing sacrifice, without a murmur, as if it 
were a duty which they owed us, in some inexplicable man- 
ner. I wonder why she does not invite the devoted paragon. 
Bee to fill her place, in that quarter. From my reasoning, 
nothing could be more appropriate, especially when ‘charity 
begins at home.’ Wonders will never cease, when I invite 
Beatrice Moreland to accompany me; or consider her an 
intimate friend.” 

The soliloquy ended in a burst of merriment which rang 
sweetly through the room, though the lips were parted in 
disdainful derision. Memory had most unexpectedly 
brought to mind, the lines of an old poem learned in early 
childhood; she tried, in vain, to banish the ringing meters; 
but, they only repeated themselves in perfect rhythm. 

“How doth the little busy bee 
Improve each shining hour. 

And gather honey all the day 
From every op’ning flower.” 

“Heigh, ho! I must not indulge in frivolity; this is too 
serious a matter to be met by youthful reminiscences. I 
wonder why it is,” she asked herself, “that in the midst 
of all my sorrows, or disappointments, there runs a vein of 
humor. I am actually afraid something ludicrous may 
present itself at a funeral. However, it must be this pecu- 
liar trait of character which enables me to preserve ‘the 
even tenor of my way,’ and the calm demeanor to the world 
in general And lest those human harpies, the critics of 
society may have refreshment from my despondency, I will 
still conceal my real feelings beneath a smiling exterior. 
It does seem as though I was never to see the other country. 
Once, have I been frustrated when the brightest of hopes 
promised a happy fruition; again, the second time, I must 


OUT OF TUNE. 


7 


crush these longings, and resign myself to the inevitable. 
I am utterly incredulous as regards Mary’s theory that 
everything is for the best, and we should bow in sweet sub- 
mission to the chastening rod, without a murmur.” 

How much depends upon the trivial things of this world! 
The slightest deviation from the natural course causes a 
series of events to arise, which bring such unexpected results, 
that one wonders at the magic power of time, and questions 
if a few brief hours could possibly make such a change 
in a course which hitherto was apparently only a monoton- 
ous routine. Truly, we know not ^^what a day may bring 
forth!” 

Sometimes, a chain of circumstances is so strongly forged, 
that frail humanity cannot extricate itself from the powerful 
grasp. Every struggle is ineffectual, and only increases the 
power of the adamantine coils around the unyielding victim, 
as the pressure upon the sides of an arch tends to strengthen 
the structure. 

We imagine we are sailing safely along on the voyage of 
life, with sunny skies and fair winds which bespeak a pros- 
perous journey; suddenly, the way is obscured with clouds; 
the bright sun is hidden; dense fog veils the guiding light 
making the path so hazardous to pursue, that we shrink 
from its dangers, though a trusty pilot watches at the helm. 
Our barque is wrecked upon the shoals of fear! 

Wreckage always follows disaster, whether oji land or 
sea. It involves much besides itself; not only the clinging 
weak, but the valiant strong. It reaches forth, with iron 
hand, till its force is spent by the circling waves on the 
distant shore. 

Wrecks of life lie scattered throughout our midst; some 
were utterly ruined, when they dashed upon the cruel rocks 
of despair; others are but slightly injured, awaiting a help- 
ing hand to gain their former strength, and again speed forth 
upon their mission. 

Will Violet Morriton blindly refuse a friendly hand ex- 
tended to save her life from being wrecked, and restore 
harmony to the craving heart! 


CHAPTER II, 

Morriton House. 

The Morriton mansion was situated upon one of the 
finest and most select avenues of the city. It was an impos- 
ing structure of brick and brown stone. The style of archi- 
tecture was of no special order; a tower at the northwestern 
portion, with its many-pointed roof , and beautiful pinnacles 
gave it a Gothic appearance; while, upon the south and 
east, a colonnade of fluted columns with capitals bearing 
the rich carving of the classic acanthus presented the Corin- 
thian order. This colonnade supported a spacious balcony, 
the entire length of the sides of the mansion, which over- 
looked a very beautiful court; broad marble steps led from 
verandas through mosaic walks to a marble fountain. 
Under the shade of palms growing luxuriantly from bronze 
urns, tempting seats invited one to rest; while the perfume 
of rare exotics, mingling with the splashing waters carried 
one away to a distant southern clime, or lulled the senses 
into dreams of fairy-land. 

The court was screened from the curious eye of the public, 
by a small park into which it led. Here, majestic elms 
drooped their pendent branches into emerald arbors; 
noble oaks, and stately catalpas flung their cool, retreating 
shadows around. Shrubs, as beautiful as those of Paradise, 
blossomed profusely; rhododendrons, and hydrangeas ri- 
valed each other in their gorgeous beauty ; the mock-orange, 
or syringa dropped its aromatic flowers like snow-flakes 
upon the velvet sward, in company with the hawthorn; 
the pink and white petals of the deutzia fell softly as a frost 
upon a summer^s night; wisteria, clematis, and honey- 
suckle twined trustingly around trellises in prolific splendor; 
roses in almost endless varieties abounded in all parts. 

Every path in the luxuriant garden, began and diverged 
from a large summer-house standing in the centre; its 


OUT OP TUNE. 


9 


design was that of an octagon, and its arrangement a work 
of art. Climbing roses decorated the many sides in a most 
unique manner, enhancing its beauty with the brilliant 
trumpet flower, and making with their delicate net- work of 
foliage a perfect bower of bloom. Within this charming 
retreat were couches and chairs for rest or meditation. It 
seemed a perfect abode of happiness, and contentment; 
Fair as we may suppose the Garden of Eden to have been, 
before the arch deceiver intruded upon the domains of our 
ancestry, and beguiled the maternal ear. Yet, as in the 
primitive state, the spirit of discord had crept in, and marred 
the harmony of Unie’s bower. 

The interior of Morriton House was almost palatial in its 
adornment. The reception room, into which one entered 
from the vestibule being an exhibition of modern art. Clear 
white marble formed the floor; frescoes in the palest tint 
of Nile green covered the walls, with cornices of delicately, 
carved acanthus. The ceiling was deeply paneled in white, 
Nile green and gold; the woodwork was of white enamel, 
ornamented with papier-mache and gold. Draperies of 
filmy lace, and silk veiled the windows. A marble stair- 
way with richly carved balustrade led to the rooms above. 

The same style was observed in the drawing room, with 
the exception of the mural decorations, which consisted of 
silken tapestries. Heavy brocaded satin portieres, in old- 
gold and green, separated from other rooms; rich Oriental 
rugs of neutral tints harmonized with the general tone. 

The library, one of the most beautiful rooms in the whole 
mansion, was finished in solid rosewood. Large book- 
cases, and cabinets were of the same choice material. The 
floor was fine mosaic; the coloring was that deep rich tint 
of red which blended with everything, and gave a roseate 
hue throughout the whole. The long windows furnished a 
lovely view of the court, upon which they opened. The 
cases were filled with the choicest literature from the best 
authors. Books, of all kinds, were visible: histories, biog- 
raphies and poetical works from the earliest, to the present 


lo 


OUT OF TUNE. 


time; philosophical writings, and treaties upon abstruse 
subjects; writings from Spencer, Huxley, and Darwin; 
works of fiction, and the current magazines of the day, even 
to the daily newspapers. It was a place for mental recrea- 
tion, and gave a marked evidence of the taste of its possessor. 
Here, free from the trials, and irritations of life, one could 
be in unison with his favorite author, and roam with him 
untrammeled through the fields of research, or investiga- 
tion. Ample accommodation was provided for several, 
with no fear of intrusion. 

Between the library and drawing room lay a pleasant 
apartment called the morning room; it had a southern 
exposure upon the garden and court. It was usually oc- 
cupied by the family during the early portion of the day. 
Sliding panels opened into a marble corridor, leading from 
the reception room and hall to the court. 

A large music room opened on the opposite side of the cor- 
ridor; it was nearly circular with a high, arched ceiling, 
and was finished in mahogany. Windows of exquisite 
coloring bearing the portraits of the most celebrated com- 
posers admitted the sunlight, in diffusing rays of prismatic 
beauty. Musical instruments, both large and small, were 
seen; a pipe organ, with mahogany case, stood at one side 
of the room; two grand pianos, of the best workmanship, 
invited the artist to strike their chords, and free the im- 
prisoned harmony contained within; guitars and violins 
lay in convenient places awaiting a skilled hand. This 
room, also, showed the taste of its possessor, and the high 
appreciation of the art of music. 

Adjoining this was a commodious dining room, in an- 
tique oak; the walls were paneled with the richly grained 
wood, surmounted by a heavy cornice of delicately carved 
oak-leaves and acorns. The ceiling consisted of deep 
panels in rich, soft shades of brown and gold; a mantle, 
and sideboard of the same highly-polished wood orna- 
mented with the foliage and fruit, of this ‘^monarch of the 
forest,^^ increased the splendor of the sumptuous apartment. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


II 


Facing the east were broad windows affording a delightful 
view of the court, and contiguous park. 

All these rooms could easily be thrown into a grand 
salon, by means of secret appliances, for receptions, musical 
and literary entertainments, and were often filled by friends of 
the family. Beyond these, lay those necessary for household 
purposes; they w^ere conveniently arranged, and as perfect 
in all their appointments as the others, and bordered upon 
the park. 

The second story afforded chambers, dressing rooms, and 
boudoirs; also a charming sitting room, which opened 
upon a broad balcony overlooking the beautiful court, and 
park. It was a most inviting place for rest and relaxation ; 
and some member of the family could usually be found en- 
joying its sweet seclusion. 

Comfortable quarters were afforded the domestics in the 
third story. They were given a parlor for their exclusive 
use; also, a small library of the standard works. An up- 
right piano contributed to their enjoyment. Their rooms 
were as daintily furnished as any; Mr. and Mrs. Morriton, 
believing that in order to secure the best service from their 
help, they should be treated with respect, and provision 
made for their comfort. When expostulated with once 
upon this idea, by one of her intimate friends, Mrs. Morriton 
routed her opposer by asking these pertinent questions: 
^‘How can I expect my girls to handle my bric-a-brac care- 
fully, if they are strangers to it? How can they keep the 
furniture perfectly in order, if I only allow them, the old 
dilapidated pieces?” Suffice to say, she was troubled 
with no more remonstrances. 

The mansion had been built only a few years before, by 
a prosperous New York merchant, who having met with 
reverses by the turn of fortune's wheel, was obliged to sac- 
rifice his elegant home, and place it upon the market as 
merchandise. Mr. Morriton, in search of a house, became 
its fortunate purchaser, and by means of additions, and 
extensive alterations had increased its former splendor 
to its present magnificence. 


CHAPTER III. 

The Weak Confound the Wise. 

The Morritons had resided nearly ten years, in their 
present home. Previous to that time, they had been 
citizens of the beautiful metropolis of the Old Bay State. 
Owing to circumstances connected with an idolized daugh- 
ter, they had deemed it best to sunder the associations 
clustered around the old home, and seek one more remote, 
amid new scenes. 

Maurice Morriton had reached the meridian of life. He 
was tall and portly in figure, and possessed in a large degree, 
that noble, stately appearance which, at once, proclaimed 
him a leader among men, rather than a follower. He was 
of sanguine temperament, with a high, broad forehead 
indicative of great mental reserve force: a Roman nose 
showing power; a large, clear-cut mouth, with full rounded 
chin, firmly moulded; deep, blue eyes beamed from heavy 
eyebrows, conveying the knowledge that whatever decision 
their possessor rendered, it was fairly meted out with justice 
and mildness. His opinions were the results of concen- 
trated thought, and careful consideration. 

Mr. Morriton had commenced his business career as a 
lawyer. A large circle of influential friends, and acquaint- 
ances was instrumental in yielding him a most successful 
practice. The sterling qualities of his grand integrity 
gained him a reputation, but rarely equaled. The law of 
ethics emanating from the golden rule, governed his judg- 
ment, at all times, and made him respected, while feared 
among his apponents. His undaunted ambition, and un- 
swerving principles had gained him a judgeship which he 
had most ably filled a number of years, with great com- 
mendation from the public. 

Prosperity seemed to attend him in every undertaking. 
In whatever way he turned his attention, fortune smiled 


OUT OF TUNE. 


13 


upon him, with her brightest rays. ‘^Morriton’s ventures 
always succeed F’ says one. ‘^They’re safe!’^ said another. 
On the introduction of any new enterprise these queries 
were often made: ‘‘Has he invested?’’ “Has he Sanc- 
tioned it?” “Does he think it safe?” “ Does he consider 
the securities good ? If he does, count me in. ” 

He had invested largely in railroad stocks, and mines; 
he was a shareholder in several companies of trust,- and 
every venture had proved a paying investment. It was 
commonly reported that everything he touched turned to 
gold. He had become a multi-millionaire by his own ex- 
ertions, and ranked as a great philanthropist. 

At the time of his removal from his native city, he had 
severed his connection with the bar, and all offices of public 
trust. His income although princely, had not at that time 
reached its present magnitude. The purchase of an aban- 
doned mine, apparently worthless, in which he was formerly 
a large owner, had yielded most unexpectedly enormous 
returns, and given him the greater portion of his present 
fortune. 

Helen Morriton was her husband’s chief counsellor; she 
was beautiful, not only in person, but in character; her 
dark eyes, with their rich pansy coloring, still retained the 
brilliancy of youth. She was modest and retiring by nature, 
and a favorite wdth all. Morriton had been attracted by 
her quiet, unassuming ways, even in childhood, and became 
her champion. The attraction was mutual, increasing 
through the days of youth, till it reached consummation in 
the marriage vows, during the early years of manhood. 
He had faithfully kept the pledge of honor, given at the altar, 
and had watched over all her ways with a loving solicitude. 

The traits of character exhibited in childhood grew more 
developed in the woman, making her endeared to all. In 
the days of her youth she had remembered the Creator, 
and found the years as they drew nigh, years of pleasantness. 
Though a frail, clinging, and trusting wife, she was a power- 
ful advocate. She was in unison with the Maker and her 


14 


OUT OF TUNE. 


fellow-creatures. Her tranquility allayed discordant jars 
and filled her life with consonance. 

When the mine, in which Mr. Morriton had invested a 
large amount of capital, had been abandoned as practically 
worthless, from the expenses exceeding the returns, and 
yielding no profits, he had mentioned the fact to his wife; 
as he was accustomed to relate the incidents of the day on 
his return. 

^‘What do you imagine has happened, Helen?” he asked. 
And without waiting for an answer, he continued, ^The 
C. & C. Mine has gone to smash; has been sinking money 
for the past two months; water filling the shaft faster than 
the engine, working night and day, can pump it out. Jones 
said it would pay immensely, and I took his word, and in- 
vested; but, they did not expect to find the water, so no 
one is at fault, and we all took the risk.” 

Which way did the water come in?” inquired the inter- 
ested listener, in an anxious voice. 

Which way!’” repeated he; ‘^why you dear little 
philosopher, what difference could it possibly make, whether 
one way, or another?” 

^‘Of course, Maurice, you know I do not understand 
about such things,” she answered. ‘^But, don’t you think 
they might sink a shaft in the opposite direction, get clear 
of the water, and continue working the mine?” 

‘‘Oh, no, my dear! It would be most impracticable; it 
would amount only to the burial of a fortune! ” he replied. 
“I will see, however, which way the water appeared.” He 
glanced over a letter taken from his pocket, and read as 
follows: “signs of moisture were noticed, several days, upon 
the right; these increased till we gradually found ourselves 
in water, and were obliged to stop operations. Every 
available means has been used to exhaust the flow of water, 
but, so far, we have been unsuccessful, after a month’s 
trial. We may as well try to pump up a river, as to empty 
the water from the shaft. It remains from ten to twenty 
feet deep. Is it sufficiently clear to you„now?” he in- 
quired wonderingly. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


IS 

‘‘Yes!’’ she responded. I think, perhaps, they may 
have found a subterranean lake, and were unable to 
exhaust it; they might sink the shaft at the left, several 
hundred feet away, and find plenty of metal; don’t you 
think so, Maurice?” 

“I am afraid I don’t, Helen!” said the unconvinced man. 
“You cannot find a rich lode simply by a little digging. 
Besides, the owners, or shareholders will advance no more 
money.” 

“Why don’t you purchase the mine yourself, and see 
if it can be done?” she asked. “Think of those poor 
miners; their families may be destitute, and suffering from 
the failure of the mine, on which they depended for support, 
and you might keep them from the pangs of hunger,” she 
added with a beseeching tone, turning her expressive eyes 
upon him. 

“Really, Helen, you are too bad, you know^ I cannot 
resist the tender pleading of your sympathetic eyes!” cried 
Mr. Morriton. “But, in this case, I dare not comply with 
your suggestion, or wishes; it is too hazardous to attempt; 
we will, simply, let the whole matter drop, for the present, 
and, perhaps, for all time.” 

“Just as you think, Maurice; whatever you do, I am 
assured will be for the best ; I was only trying to help you 
out of your difficulties, by my little suggestions,” she added, 
as if to excuse herself for having a different opinion. 

The matter did not drop, however; again and again, it 
presented itself, each time sinking deeper, and taking 
firmer hold, till it found a resting place from which it could 
not be uprooted. Thoroughly he weighed the “pros and 
cons,” deciding to obtain control of the mine, and follow 
out the hazardous proposition of his wife. He did this, 
against his own judgment, after the most penetrating inves- 
tigation, relying more upon her sanguine hopes than his 
own fears. The basis of his decision rested upon the efficient 
help which she had rendered in the past. Search, as deeply 
as he would, he could find no instance wherein her judg- 
ment was at fault. Truly she was a helpmeet, in every sense. 


i6 


OUT OP TUNE. 


‘‘I will answer those pleading eyes, and give the poor 
fathers a chance to earn bread for their children; if I sink 
a few more thousands, it will not matter a great deal,’' 
he told himself. ‘‘I’ll take the risk, and prove its verity 
or falsity; a failure will only show the same results which 
experts have experienced, while a success will be marvellous. 
If it should succeed, I shall think my wife possesses the 
spirit of divination, or some occult power.” 

Mr. Morriton, as president of the Company, called a 
meeting of the stockholders, and laid the proposition before 
them; he explained, thoroughly, his plans, and concluded, 
by saying, “any who may wish to remain with me in the 
enterprise, I shall be pleased to have do so; it is a great 
venture, in which I can assure no one of any returns; each 
of you must take your own risk upon an uncertainty, as I 
am doing. Those who may wish to withdraw their capital 
from the company may dispose of their shares at par; I 
will pay, myself, one hundred cents on the dollar, as I pro- 
pose taking all the remaining stock.” 

Some of the members asked each other, at the adjourn- 
ment of the meeting, “Has Morriton lost his senses?” 
“ Is he in his dotage ? ” “Has he so much money, he wishes 
to sink it?” Others said, “I shall run no more risks; 
once is sufficient. I shall certainly avail myself of the 
opportunity of getting out of the business without any loss! ” 

They acted accordingly upon their own convictions, and 
withdrew from the company, with other disaffected ones 
holding similar views, on the receipt of a full equivalent. 
The majority remained with Morriton, well-pleased that 
he should act as manager, considering themselves fortunate 
in securing his valuable services. They, also, said, “we 
will furnish more money, if you wish, and stand by you till 
the last, knowing if you win, we shall; we’ll sink or swim 
together, old boy!” 

Operations were immediately begun for the sinking of a 
new shaft about five hundred feet from the old one. And, 
in course of time, the cheering news was flashed across the 


OUT OF TUNE. 


17 


wires, that success crowned their efforts; there was an 
abundance of the precious metal found nearer the surface. 

“Morriton,’’ asked one of the members at a meeting 
of the board, “how in the name of all that is reasonable, 
did you think of such a scheme ? ’’ 

“I did not,’’ he answered amusingly. “I entered into 
it, as blindly as any of you, and without one particle of 
faith, either.” 

“Explain yourself, please, and give us the key of the mys- 
tery,” they cried with one accord. 

“Well, gentlemen, I will,” he answered. “It was entirely 
my wife’s suggestion; I was telling her of the failure of 
the mine, when she innocently asked, ‘why don’t you sink 
another shaft in the opposite direction ? ’ I scouted at the 
idea, but she looked up to me so confidingly, and said she 
thought it would be successful, I could not resist. Then 
she entreated so beseechingly in behalf of the poor 
miners, I had not the heart to refuse; neither could I get 
rid of the matter, so, I was compelled to act. Now, you 
have the solution of the whole matter in a nutshell.” 

“When I married,” he continued, as if in extenuation 
“my wife possessed a fair income; I fell into the habit of 
consulting her in regard to investments, and never invested 
a cent without her entire approval, though often contrary 
to my own judgment. I found her suggestions valuable, 
though sometimes illogical. The habit has grown, until 
it has become a custom for me to consult her in regard to 
all the affairs of life, business, or otherwise, and whatever 
success I may have achieved, my friends, is wholly attributa- 
ble to her. And who can have a greater interest in our 
affairs, than those whom we have selected as the partners 
for life, the sharers of our joys and sorrows?” 

Silence followed this pertinent question, while a medley of 
hopes and fears ran through the mind of every husband. 
The awkwardness of the situation was broken by one rising 
and saying, “I would motion that a vote of thanks be ex- 
tended to this estimable lady, for her valuable suggestions; 


i8 


OUT OF TUNE. 


also, that the present name of the mine be changed to that 
of ^The Helena,’ in honor of our President’s wife.” 

The motion was unanimously carried amidst a burst of 
applause, and modestly accepted by Mr. Morriton, replying, 
^‘Friends, I accept your great kindness, in behalf of Mrs. 
Morriton; but, promise you she will be greatly surprised, 
at such a proceeding, as she is not of those women who 
utter that self-satisfied remark, ‘ I told you so. ’ 

“I have been thinking,” said he, ‘Hhat we might very 
profitably raise the wages of the miners. (This idea, also, is 
not wholly my own.) This mine is yielding beyond all 
expectations; even beyond our dreams, and we can help 
the poor deserving toilers, by a better competence. And, 
gentlemen, would it not be advisable to build a few sub- 
stantial homes for them? Davis told me, on his return, 
that their dwellings were but miserable hovels. Now, a 
pleasant little cottage would be most attractive to them, 
after the arduous toil of the day, and encourage them in 
their great struggle for existence. An advance in the wages 
would allow them to pay a mere nominal rent for the house, 
which could be credited as payment by them on their own 
property. I really think it would awaken a new stimulus 
among them, and keep them, in a measure, away from the 
gambling dens, by showing that we had an interest in their 
welfare. Shall we do it?” 

‘‘Yes, yes!” vociferated the members, in the best of hum- 
ors. We’ll build cottages, or even a whole township, if 
you say so!” cried one enthusiastically. Let us give them 
at any rate, a schoolhouse, and a chapel, as promoters of 
morals. As Morriton says we can afford it, and at all 
hazards, it will do honor to the company, and may influence 
others to do likewise, especially if it is a success.” 

“I am pleased that these propositions meet your hearty 
approval,” answered Mr. Morriton; “and that you co- 
incide in the advancement of the men. Build all the homes, 
and schoolhouses, you choose, but, please leave the chapel 
for my better-half, as she is already planning for it. Pardon 


OUT OF TUNE. 


19 


me, for mentioning it; but, as the subject under considera- 
tion needs some explanation, I give it. After the new vein 
had been found, I asked her, how she knew there was more 
metal in another direction, and she replied, ‘I did not; but 
the Saviour did, and used me as an instrument in proposing 
it, and if you do not object, I will build a little chapel where 
the children can go, and learn of His great love for them. ^ 

‘‘ Of course, I could not object to such a noble proposition, 
or place any stumbling-blocks in the way, by propounding 
speculative theories. You know the position which I hold 
upon the matter; a similar one to yours, I believe, that 
religion is but a pleasing illusion founded upon a mythical 
history; and, that all knowledge of heaven is but an alluring 
fallacy; as no one has ever returned from that region, to 
confirm the wonderful fancies. It is absolutely harmless, 
and cannot injure its possessor unless be becomes an incor- 
rigible fanatic. Should I ever become attracted to the faith, 
it will be from the daily illustration which I see exhibited 
in my household. Now, you understand the matter, as it 
stands, with all its details, I think.’’ 

The meeting adjourned after these remarks; and the 
members returned to their customary vocations, carrying 
with them much food for reflection. It was a new article 
of diet, entirely foreign to their taste; and, they really were 
ignorant of the process of assimilation; after dallying 
awhile with it, they rejected it, as unpalatable. 

“A strange way for the tide to turn, isn’t it?” asked one, 
during the homeward walk. “Who would, ever, have 
supposed that Morriton owed his great success, and pros- 
perity to his wife! Or that such a frail little woman pos- 
sessed so much executive ability! Or that his powerful 
intellect could be increased by her astute wisdom! ” 

“A most forcible elucidation of the old saying that 
‘Truth is stranger than Fiction,’” answered his friend. 
“I was so amazed at the course of events, I could think of 
nothing else. I considered the chapel building but a joke, 
simply proposed on the spur of the moment, in a burst of 


20 


OUT OF TUNE. 


enthusiasm, and you can only imagine my bewilderment 
when I found it was actually meant. Who ever heard 
before, of a meeting of the directors of a mining company 
discussing the question of ethics? I never expected to, 
much less, to become a participant of one! Wonders will 
never cease, when a party of evolutionists appear on the 
stage of action as Christian philanthropists!’’ 

‘‘True, but we are living in a age of progress, and un- 
heard of things are happening every day!” remarked the 
other, as they separated. 

The members of the Helena Mining Company had that 
day, heard of something more valuable than gold or silver. 
Truly, a little leaven had leavened the whole! And, the 
weak had been chosen to confound the wise! 

Who can say that a good man’s steps are not ordered by 
the Lord! 


CHAPTER IV. 

A Young Logician. 

The Morriton household numbered eight; in addition 
to the parents, there were five children. Hervey Vaughan, 
the eldest, a young man of thirty years; the twins, Violet 
and Eunice, a few years younger; Herbert, a young man of 
five and twenty, and Harry, the youngest, a lad of twenty. 

Miss Eliza, a maiden sister of Mr. Morriton, completed 
the family circle; she was known as Aunt Lida, and en- 
deared to every member. 

The possession of great wealth had enabled the fond 
father to gratify the wishes of his children in regard to educa- 
tion. They availed themselves of every advantage attaina- 
ble, and excelled in whatever branch their individual tastes 
led them to attempt, much to the gratification of their parents 
and instructors. 

Mr. Morriton and his wife believed in the education of 
young men for some profession; and, that wealth, instead 
of barring rich men’s sons from the fields of science, should 
open wider avenues for research. The children were early 
trained to habits of industry, and the dignity of indepen- 
dence. 

He had been greatly disappointed, at the choice of pro- 
fession made by the eldest son. He desired that he might, 
from the study of law, rank among the eminent jurists of 
the age. When he saw that his boy held not the least in- 
clination towards a legal course, and, even, avoided an 
argument, but was constantly searching out the derivation 
of words, their classification, roots, and every item of knowl- 
edge, which the languages afforded, he abandoned the wish, 
and encouraged him so zealously to prosecute his studies 
as a philologist, that the son did not even know of the 
parental longing. He only uttered one complaint concern- 
ing it: ‘‘We’ll not spoil an excellent professor for a small 


22 


OUT OF TUNE* 

pettifogger!^^ And this decision showed more gratification 
than disappointment. 

Hervey Morriton inherited traits of character from each 
parent; from his father, he had taken the habit of deep, 
penetrating research, which enabled him to thoroughly 
exhaust a subject before he dropped it; and even then, 
to recur to it, subject it to the same process hoping to gain 
further information from more light being thrown upon it. 
He was persistent and untiring in all his undertakings. 
The study of letters, and languages fascinated him from the 
learning of the alphabet. Even, in childhood, his favorite 
hobby absorbed him to the exclusion of all other recrea- 
tions; so diligent was he in the pursuit of knowledge that 
health was often impaired. 

Grave apprehensions had been felt that he might fall 
an early victim to that dreaded New England disease of 
consumption. Upon the completion of his collegiate studies, 
he immediately accepted a professorship in one of the lead- 
ing American colleges. He had striven zealously for the 
advancement of his pupils, four years, when his incessant 
labors completely prostrated him. A year’s rest, with 
absolute freedom from study was prescribed by the attendant 
physician. Although greatly disappointed at the interrup- 
tion of his aspirations, he was comforted by the permission 
to read two hours out of the twenty-four. 

“Rest, is what you need, my young man, complete rest!” 
said the doctor. “No more late hours of study; you are 
‘burning the candle at both ends,’ as the old saying goes. 
If you will follow my directions carefully, and not think 
yourself wiser thaii your elders in regard to physical and 
medical science, you will come out all right. But you must 
avoid over-exertion of any kind, and never indulge in any 
pursuit, either manual or mental, when you feel fatigued. 
You see, we men of medicine must work in unison with our 
patients; without their co-operation, our attempts are 
worthless. We will conquer this weariness, if you agree to 
the conditions; do you?” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


23 


‘‘Yes, doctor, I will!’’ Hervey answered promptly. “I 
will do more even than you require. I will forego the two- 
hours’ permitted reading, as I know they would only serve 
to make me discontented, and unhappy, when they had 
passed. I will not return to my beloved books till you 
grant a full permission. I will search as diligently for 
the fountain of health, as the mortals of old searched for 
their fabled fountain of perennial youth. Though I have 
the advantage of them concerning its location, and I thank 
you most heartily for the information,” he added with 
twinkling eyes. 

“Right, you are, my boy! You have the proper material 
for a strong man, if you only keep your foundation of youth 
strong,” replied Doctor Ernest. “I find that even at the 
beginning, you are wiser than your elders, in a pro- 
hibition of all labors. I merely recommended it, to pre- 
vent homesickness, and discouragement. I would advise 
you to take a trip to the mountains, anywhere you please. 
Remain as much as possible out of doors, and you might, 
also, indulge moderately in athletic sports.” 

“I am afraid I shall never become an athlete, though I 
am in Ernest hands!” retorted Hervey. 

“Well, by, by! I’ll risk you, joking at my expense. 
Remember, no books, till I give permission,” cautiously 
remarked the physician, as he departed with a light heart, 
knowing that his advice and instruction would be fully 
carried out. 

Hervey resembled the mother in temperament; he pos- 
sessed the same sweet spirit of resignation which dominated 
her life; it enabled him to lay aside his own plans for awhile, 
and to be as faithful in his endeavors for restoration, as he 
had been in the pursuit of knowledge. The same beautiful 
deep eyes spoke eloquently of kindred virtues. The fea- 
tures inclined more to the maternal side; though the figure, 
with its commanding height and delicate poise, resembled 
the paternal. 

Mr. Morriton decided to accompany his son to the 


24 


OUT OF TUNE. 


mountains. He selected a pleasant home in a charming rural 
village in the old Granite State, remained a week and left 
him with Harry. *‘Do try and be careful 1’’ he admon- 
ished in parting. I wish to see a marked improvement on 
your return, and Harry, I can testify, will not allow you 
to mourn for home.’’ 

‘^Better believe. I’ll not, pa, if I have to turn a king’s 
jester to prevent it!” answered Harry with sparkling eyes. 
‘‘No studies, no books, nothing only the great book of nature 
spread before our wondering vision; and, we cannot even 
turn her leaves, only put them under foot. When we get 
tired of gazing upon the familiar scene we’ll explore new 
fields.” 

The father returned to his household, greatly relieved by 
the interest which Harry had so shrewdly shown for Hervey. 
He related the metaphor, and Aunt Lida surprised them 
by asking, why they did not permit Harry to remain with 
him during the entire year, as he seemed such a suitable 
person. 

Harry Ivan, at this time, was in his nineteenth year; 
he was a perfect wit, and a natural logician; his keen, blue 
eyes, bubbling forth in bursts of merriment at repartee 
indicated a hidden spring of profound depths. He pos- 
sessed a good physique, never having known a day’s illness. 
He was growing to the stature of a well-developed, and 
robust man. He was fond of all athletic sports, and led 
among those of his set. 

It was unnecessary for the father to express any fears, 
concerning the inclination of his youngest child, when the 
course of his life’s work was so plainly delineated in every 
way. 

“Father,” he said, a few days before their departure, 
“I’d like to be a lawyer, and a judge, and sometime hold 
a seat in the Supreme Court! I want the highest office 
attainable!” 

“What for, my child? Do you think you can improve 
the present state of affairs?” asked the delighted father. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


25 


^‘O, for several reasons!’’ answered Harry. would 
like to give some poor abused fellow a better chance; show 
up the wolf beneath the lamb’s clothes. I don’t know as I 
could of myself make any improvement upon the laws of 
to-day, but they are defective in many places and want 
remodeling.” 

He was willingly granted permission to pursue his chosen 
profession. 


CHAPTER V. 

A Trying Situation. 

The boys had been three months in their new quarters, 
when a marked change was noticeable in Hervey’s appear- 
ance. He had gained in weight; the life-giving ozone of 
the pure mountain air had quickened the pulses, and im- 
proved the retarded circulation, till the blood coursed natu- 
rally through the veins and arteries. He could take short 
walks without fatigue. He passed nearly the whole day 
out of doors; either riding, walking, boating, or reclining 
in the hammock. Harry constantly changed their recrea- 
tion, to keep from “stagnation,’’ he said. 

He never allowed many minutes to pass in silence. One 
evening, while seated upon the piazza, he saw that Hervey 
was in one of his moods of abstraction; “I must rouse him 
from that,” he thought, or we’ll lose all the gain. I wonder 
where his thoughts are roaming. Hervey! Hervey, old 
boy! a penny for your thoughts!” he cried. 

“Oh! I was only thinking of home, and wishing I might 
see the dear ones, for a little while; and I could not help 
wondering what I should do without you. Your vacation 
is drawing to a close, and you must soon return to your 
studies,” answered Hervey. 

“Now, see here, old chap!” exclaimed Harry; “your 
present state does not speak very well for my office of Men- 
tor! Of all discouraging operations, that of building and 
crossing imaginary bridges is the worst that I know of! 
The most unprofitable, also; as they usually collapse before 
completion, and great is the fall thereof!” Did I ever tell 
you about the joke I played on old P. F. ?” he inquired, 
anxious to lead his mind away from the subject. 

“P. F. !” repeated Hervey. “What do you mean?” 

“Oh, we boys called Brown, Professor Fossil! He was 
such an antiquarian, always delving among the ruins of 


OUT OF TUNE. 


27 


the past for a curio, or trying to decipher the hieroglyphics 
of prehistoric ages, ’’ said Harry in explanation. 

^‘Some time ago, we were analyzing sentences, parsing 
words, and so forth, when the word ‘him’ fell to me. I 
thought I would have a little fun at the Professor’s expense. 
I rose after giving a wink to Al. Lewis, a chum at my side. 
I disposed of the pronoun in this manner: ‘him is a proper 
noun, the first person, singular, and in the nominative 
case, as it is a subject;’ and seated myself amid roars of 
laughter from the classmates, who knew in an instant, what 
I was doing.” 

“‘Young man, please explain you new method, whereby 
you construe ‘him’ as the subject I’ demanded the puzzled 
Professor. 

“I readily responded. ‘H — I — M, stands for Harry 
Ivan Morriton, therefore, I am the first person singular, 
and, as I am the subject of consideration, I must be in the 
nominative case.’ I was highly elated, I can assure you 
to be allowed to strengthen the position which I had taken.” 

“O Harry, how could you do so! It was most atrocious! 
And, think of your example to the other members of the 
class!” 

“I acknowledge it was too bad!” answered Harry. “I 
felt myself lower in my own estimation, when the Professor 
placed his owl-like orbs of vision upon me, and said in a 
very solemn voice, ‘Young man, I perceive you have taken 
the mantle of your father; I also perceive, you are not only 
a ‘subject of consideration,’ but, an ‘object of interest!’ 
And I perceived that he had taken the ‘wind out of my sails,’ 
as the case was a doubtful one. I could just as well be in 
one, as the other. I even felt a little conscious stricken, 
and told him afterwards, I would apologize before the 
class, if he wished it.” 

“‘Oh, no! You had your little joke, and I retaliated; 
I saw through your motive, from the first, and led you on, 
to see if you would land safely,’ said the Professor.” 

‘All’s well that ends well!’ ” exclaimed Hervey. “Your 


28 


OUT OF TUNE. 


amusing anecdote has effectually chased away the gloomy 
forebodings; and I — ” 

‘TVe thought of the greatest scheme outl” interrupted 
Harry. “I am going to ask the pater to allow me to take 
a yearns rest with you! And, won^t we have a glorious 
time, if he does!” 

‘‘He will not permit it,” said the elder. “If permission 
were obtained, I could not avail myself of it, no matter how 
much I felt inclined. I would not take you away from study ; 
it would be an unpardonable wrong, when you do not re- 
quire a rest, with such a physique. O, no, my boy! ” 

“I don^t say as I do now!” retorted the younger. “But 
don^t you think we had better ‘take time by the forelock,’ 
lest there might be ? I’ll write a line to that son of Escula- 
pius, and tell him to intercede for me, by telling the dear 
ones that ‘an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of 
cure. ’ ” 

“Don’t, Harry!” pleaded the suspecting man. “I 
know you are proposing it wholly on my account.” 

“We’ll wait, and see what answer my proposition brings, 
and not wound your conscientious scruples. But, truly, 
my dear old boy, I would enjoy most exquisitely to pass 
a year with you, and get acquainted. You are so much 
older than I am, I never had the chance before; and I 
would like to gain some fresh ideas, my stock is getting 
stale. A year will not make much difference with me 
either; it really would be a deed of kindness for me, to 
allow Elmer Haskell to win the prize offered for scholar- 
ship. We were of the same average, and I could not allow 
him to excel, without detriment to myself; moreover, he 
needs it, as his parents are poor, and he is struggling hard 
for an education. I can easily take the last two years in 
one, and lose nothing, as I am already familiar with a part 
of next year’s studies from my room-mate. Are you con- 
vinced now, that I mean it ? ” 

“Not wholly!” answered Hervey; “though I shall most 
gratefully accept your proffered services if I can,” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


29 


Harry^s letter was a strange mixture of invention, and 
prevention, and caused great surprise in the household, 
when its contents were made known. He addressed it to 
his brother Herbert, in the following manner: 

‘‘Dear Esculapius: — 

“I wish you to consult the heads of the household, the 
modern philosopher included, upon a most important ques- 
tion. I wish you to get permission for me to remain with 
Hervey during his required rest. I know you can present 
the case in a medical way, far better than I, so I appeal to 
you. The dear boy is improving it is true; but he really 
needs me to keep him from his moods of abstraction. Only 
a few days ago, I found him indulging in a fit of the blues, 
mourning, I suppose, for the Lares and Penates, of the 
Morriton household. I do most honestly think I am neces- 
sary for his improvement, as he is wondering what he will 
do without me. It^s better for me to take a vacation, now, 
when I desire it, than later on, when I don’t want it. And, 
who can say that I shall not need one in the future, if I do 
resemble a modern Hercules! So state the case in all its 
details, won’t you, dear fellow. 

“If he is not left in my hands, he may possibly fall into 
worse; he may fall in love; now, in order to make it clear, 
I must relate an incident which took place quite recently. 

“I was walking hastily across a field and had reached 
the stone- wall, over which I was preparing to jump, when 
I spied what I supposed to be a little girl, perched up in a 
tree, growing close by the wall; she seemed to be piteously 
looking for assistance, so I said, ‘little maid, what can I 
do for you ? ’ 

“‘Little maid!’ she repeated, without answering my 
question; ‘do you know whom you are addressing, and 
how old I am ? ’ she asked with offended dignity. 

“‘Hav’n’t the least ideal’ I answered carelessly; ‘neither 
do I expect to learn your age, as you would be the first girl 
who ever told her age correctly, to my knowledge. ’ 


30 


OUT OF TUNE. 


horrid boy!’ she retorted. don’t know which 
is preferable, to sit here, and hear your vile slanders upon 
my sisters, or be frightened nearly out of my senses! ’ and her 
eyes seemed to fill with tears, which you know I never could 
stand. 

‘^She informed me that on crossing the field, she had 
become frightened at a cow, and in running away from the 
dreadful beast, she had dropped one of her slippers. She 
thought if she waited long enough, some one would come 
for the animal, when she could descend from her place of 
refuge, and obtain the shoe. 

‘‘I begun a search for it, immediately and was about 
giving it up as hopeless, when I discovered a queer-looking 
object near the cow, which proved to be the slipper. She 
must have taken a zig-zag course in crossing as it was 
nowhere in the direction she told me. I restored the lost 
article, which she seemed in no hurry to put on, waiting 
for me to leave I suppose; but, I had no idea of leaving 
her, in that situation. Accordingly, I stepped upon one 
of the projecting stones of the wall, and before she could 
define my intention, quietly lifted her to the ground. O my! 
didn’t it raise a tempest! I wish you could have seen her. 
She gave me a stinging box upon the ear, crying out, ‘You 
insolent boy, how dare you do such a thing ? Where were 
you brought up, to so outrage all the proprieties? Have 
you ever been in the society of ladies?’ And, then, she 
burst into tears. 

“The situation was an awkward one; I was just concluding 
to leave her, and her ‘proprieties’ to their fate, when she 
surprised me, by falling; that is, she would if I had no 
caught her again in my arms. ‘For mercy’s sake, what 
is the matter ? Are you crying because you are injured, or 
your dignity offended?’ I asked in exasperation. I was 
getting tired of the scene, and determined to change it some 
way. ‘I often carry my little sister about, though she is 
older than you; and, sometimes, even my mother; so, you 
see I am used to helping ladies, and could not resist the 


OUT OF TUNE. 


31 


impulse to take you from your uncomfortable perch, where 
I can leave you, if you like.’ I said by way of apology. 

^ No, I thank youl ’ she condescended to reply, apparently 
appeased by my explanation. ^ I think I must have sprained 
my ankle in running ; I remember turning it badly, and fall- 
ing, when about Ealf way here; but, I was able to reach 
this spot, and thought it was not injured very much. I 
find I am mistaken, as I cannot stand.’ 

‘‘Upon inquiry, I found she was stopping at the same 
house that we were, though she was a recent arrival. 

“It was ‘Hobson’s choice,’ or none, with her; she was 
obliged to have me carry her back to the house, in spite 
of her vain attempts to get there unaided. 

“She’s one of those milk and water girls, that is a sort 
of washed-out complexion; light yellow hair, some call 
golden; light blue eyes; a pale countenance, which you 
as a medical man, would term anaemic ; though I suppose 
the poets might rave over her lily-white charms of com- 
plexion, and ethereal eyes; while the novelist would de- 
scribe it as ‘cream and roses,’ with a string of superlative 
adjectives. But she has no charms for me, only a little 
temper, which proves her, of the earth, earthy. You know 
I prefer brunettes. 

“I concluded I would not outrage the ‘proprieties’ by 
asking her name, so waited for her to divulge it; neither, 
would I give mine unsolicited, so I called her Miss Maid, 
while she addressed me as Young Hercules. My appear- 
ance, with a young lady in my arms caused quite a commo- 
tion at the house. Half a dozen girls rushed up, inquiring 
‘What was the matter?’ ‘Where I found her?’ and num- 
erous other questions all at once. ‘Bring her into the par- 
lor please, Mr. Morriton,’ cried one, ‘and do tell us where 
you found Miss Darling.’ Those curious girls had found 
me out, some way. After I had left the ‘Little Darling,’ 
as her friends call her, I summoned a physician, who found 
the ankle had received a severe sprain, and would require 
several weeks to restore it to its normal condition. 


32 


OUT OF TUNE. 


“I related the incident to Hervey and he seems greatly 
interested. He had noticed her from a fancied resemblance 
to sister Unie. The interest appears mutual, she inquired 
of me, afterwards, who that interesting young man was 
with whom she so often saw me; and 1 set them to enter- 
taining each other one day. 

‘‘So I repeat the warning and ask you to intercede in my 
behalf as the lesser of two evils. 

“Tell the pater I can easily make up the loss of a year’s 
study without the least trouble; in fact, I have already 
taken part of it, with one of the juniors. 

“Answer immediately, and relieve your brother’s sus- 
pense. 

“Harry Ivan Morriton.” 

After deliberate consideration it was decided to accede 
to Harry’s request; not however, from the imaginary evil 
which he foresaw, but as a most satisfactory arrangement. 
“It is high time that the brothers knew each other; and, 
what difference can it make if Harry is a little longer in 
getting through college ? ” said Aunt Lida ; while she thought 
she would run up to the mountains if the boys remained 
there much longer, to see how they were faring, and if 
the surmises concerning the “Little Darling” had any 
foundation. 


CHAPTER VI. 

A Case of Reciprocity. 

Elya Darling was one of a party of teachers who were 
spending a few days at the mountains. They had come 
for recreation, pleasure, and sight-seeing. The merry 
company of six were keenly awake to everything of interest 
transpiring in their vicinity. The original plan had been 
to stop at North Woodstock a week, and visit all places of 
attraction in the surrounding country. The exhilarating 
air had increased the buoyancy of their spirits, till the weary 
cares of the schoolroom rested undisturbed in the past. 

Only a few places had been visited before the accident. 
Agassiz^ Basin, whose deep waters lave|the feet [of j the 
mighty giant; the Flume with its intricate windings, through 
rocky defiles, even to the summit where the mountain tor- 
rent springs into life; and, the Pool which lies deep within 
the forest glades, as a sylvan picture framed in emerald 
tints, by Nature^s wondrous hand. 

Miss Darling^s mishap filled her friends with consterna- 
tion, while they sadly lamented the state of affairs. 

‘‘What shall we do?’’ asked one. 

“What an awful shame!” exclaimed another. 

“We will postpone our sight-seeing awhile and nurse you, 
Elva, dear, and who knows but that you may be as well as 
ever in a few days!” said Miss Flora Morey, the recognized 
leader of the six, hoping to raise their spirits by her en- 
couraging words. 

“No! no! I cannot allow it!” answered Elva. “But, 
I thank you most heartily for the intended kindness. I 
know my accident was only the result of my own heedless- 
ness, and as far as possible I will bear it alone. I shall per- 
mit none of you to suffer for it. I will not deprive you of 
any enjoyment or allow you to share my exile. Carry out 
everything as intended. This is my second visit to the 


34 


OUT OF TUNE. 


Franconia Notch, while the others are viewing its sublime 
grandeur for the first time. From that fact, you find that 
I shall not be deprived of as much as any of you would be 
in the same situation. You may go upon the day^s pleasure 
with no anxiety on my account; meet in my room after- 
wards, and relate the incidents. That is all I ask.^’ 

‘Tf you think best, I know we shall all agree, yet, I must 
say it looks the height of selfishness to leave you disabled, 
and alone all day,” answered Flora. 

Do not worry about me,” said Elva. If I can get to the 
parlor, I will spend my days of probation to good advantage, 
and shall not be lonesome. I can feast my soul in reading, 
and in a few days I shall be able to practise upon the piano. 
Then there is a large neglected correspondence to remedy. 
And really, she added, in a merry tone, “I must get there 
some way, even if I avail myself of assistance from that 
young Hercules.” 

g^ The description of Elva Darling’s personal appearance 
which Harry Morriton had given his brother, did not do 
justice to her charms. Although the fairest of blondes she 
was bright and vivacious; an appreciative listener, a brilliant 
conversationalist, and excellent at repartee. She was 
keen, impulsive and as quick as Harry to detect the humor- 
ous. The possession of like qualities in both had caused 
the clash of words at the first encounter. She was petite, 
and extremely sensitive about it. 

A few days later, Harry, who had gained the good-will 
of all the inmates of the house, inquired how the ‘^Little 
Darling” was. 

‘‘She is steadily improving,” answered the girl whom he 
had questioned; “but I found her this morning lamenting 
that she could not get down to the parlor where she might 
be with the others.” 

“Say that I’ll carry her down, if she likes,” volunteered 
Harry, wondering if she would receive the offered ser- 
vices. 

The messenger departed on her errand ,and soon 


OUT OF TUNE. 


35 

returned with the answer that Miss Darling would be de- 
lighted to avail herself of the great kindness. 

‘^WhewF’ whistled Harry to himself; ‘Hhe tables are 
turned, and I am a friend in need!’’ He carried her easily, 
and carefully to the designated room; deposited her in the 
most comfortable chair to be found, pushed a foot-rest into 
position, gently raised the injured foot, and placed it upon 
it, as unconsciously as though it was simply a matter of 
every-day occurrence. ‘‘There, my Little Maid, are you 
all right now?” he asked after pulling a small table close 
to her right hand. 

“Yes! Hercules, I am!” answered Elva. “I am very 
comfortable, and thank you ever so much for your assist- 
ance. I will give you an excellent recommendation as a 
nurse, should you desire it, any time. I anticipate a de- 
lightful morning with my books which Dolly will bring.” 

“Well, I am glad; though I always knew it did not take 
as much to make a girl happy as it did a boy. But I told 
you, at the first, I was in practice, if you remember,” laugh- 
ingly remarked Harry. “By the by, I will tell you about 
it sometime, or get some one else to do it. Couldn’t you 
let those books rest this morning and do a little kindness 
for me, in the way of amusing Hervey, old chap ?” he asked 
abruptly. 

“O, yes!” she answered, “what do you require?” 

“You see a party of us are going to climb a mountain, 
and explore a wonderful cave. I am hesitating on account 
of leaving my charge so long alone. If left to himself he 
might fall into one of his fits of mooning over the impossi- 
bilities. We might call it a case of reciprocity. You en- 
tertain the old chap for me in lieu of my services. Is it an 
agreement ? ” 

“Yes!” readily assented Elva. “I shall be pleased to 
render you any assistance within my power. Bring in your 
patriarch or antediluvian and I will begin my amusement 
at once. Who knows but that we may have similar ideas! ” 

“Patriarch!” repeated Harry in an undertone, as he left 


3 ^ 


OUT OF TUNE* 


the room, and burst into his brother’s presence, and threw 
himself upon a lounge where he rolled in paroxysms of 
laughter. 

‘‘What is the matter? ” asked Hervey in surprise. 

“ I never had so much fun in all my life! ” answered Harry, 
after the lapse of several moments spent in trying to articu- 
late distinctly. “I wouldn’t have missed this trip with 
you for anything. Figuratively speaking, I’ve seen the 
most literal wonder of the centuries. I’ll not astonish you 
any more just now, old chapie, but come to the point, as 
Aunt Lida says. I offered to bring the ‘Little Darling’ 
down stairs, and she most graciously allowed me the privi- 
lege of depositing her ladyship in the parlor. Her friends 
are going upon the mountain expedition, which I propose 
joining, and I thought you two might amuse each other, 
during my absence, as neither can join the party. On the 
spur of the moment I asked her permission to introduce 
you, to which she most graciously assented. So allow me , 
my dear boy.” 

Harry conducted Hervey to the parlor, advanced to the 
lady’s side and presented him in the following manner. 
“Miss Darling, allow me to present to you Mr. Morriton 
my eldest brother.” 

She acknowledged the introduction with extended hand, 
which Hervey cordially grasped. A look of amazement was 
depicted upon her countenance, which she could not suc- 
ceed in banishing, much to Harry’s gratification. “I do 
not understand,” she ventured to remark, “my young friend, 
here, told me you were a ‘Mr. Vaughan,’ and furthermore, 
asked if I would like to meet an old chap, and — ” 

“That’s sol” interrupted Harry; “and if you don’t find 
him the oldest man of his years, after a few hours acquaint- 
ance, why then, I will acknowledge myself a fraud, which 
I will wager that I shall never be called upon to do. His 
name is also Vaughan; I usually call him by his first two 
names, and he is the eldest of the Morriton progeny.” 

“Harry’s skilful explanation gave them both a better 


OUT’OF TUNE. 


37 


understanding, while at the same time it cleared away the 
ambiguity of the previous information. He felt that he 
need have no uneasiness concerning either, and remarked 
in parting, ‘T say, old chapie, you might unearth some ex- 
tinct root from the debris of the past, and hold it up for 
inspection, couldn^t you? Or, perhaps the Little Maid 
might discover for your entertainment, the ‘Lost Chord E 
I understand that the field is still open for explorers, though it 
seems as hard to discover as the North Pole I You know 
the old motto about perseverance.’’ 

The newly-found friends were amused at Harry’s parting 
suggestion, and smiled at the ingeniousness of his advice. 

“Miss Darling, you must excuse my brother’s exaggera- 
tions,” said Hervey; “when you know him better you will 
not mind him in the least. He is the youngest, and has 
always been the pet of the family, in fact, I knew but very 
little of his true worth till our sojourn here, among the 
mountains, having been away from home so much while 
completing my studies. He is one of the noblest young 
men of the present day. Underneath his vein of humor 
you will find sterling qualities, but rarely seen. Nothing 
escapes his eagle eye of observation, while he is constantly 
thinking of benefiting others to the exclusion of self. He 
inherits this most estimable trait of character from my 
mother, though he is more like father than any of us. He 
will perform the greatest deeds of kindness, and if you hesi- 
tate about accepting them, he makes it appear as though 
you were really granting him a favor.” 

“So I perceive,” remarked Elva. “I am just beginning 
to understand him; your description of his real motives, 
and true character clears away many inexplicable things. 
He don’t wish any thanks for his generosity, or praise for 
services. He has entirely mislead me, though I have 
prided myself upon my discernment of character among 
those under my instruction. I was expressing my gratitude 
to him for his kindness, when he interrupted by asking if 
I would amuse an ‘old chap’ for him. I assented, and 
expected to see some old veteran, or an aged philosopher.” 


38 


OUT OF TUNE. 


Again, I see his wisdom in misleading you to spare my 
sensitiveness, and to prevent my being ‘molly-coddled,’ 
as he calls it ; while I might not have acceded to the proposi- 
tion, had I known his intention. Though I am very happy 
in making your acquaintance, and we will forget the lack 
of conventionality.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Morriton, the pleasure is mutual,” said 
Miss Darling. “But though I am for a time compelled to 
be a prisoner in the house, I would not deprive you of any 
pleasure by asking you to share the enforced seclusion of a 
semi-invalid.” 

“It is no privation I can most earnestly assure you;” 
answered Hervey. “I am of necessity obliged to refrain 
from much. I am here to recruit an overworked system. 
I have been cautioned against fatigue, and am careful in 
carrying out the physician’s commands, in hopes of a full 
restoration in time. It was very hard for me to lay aside 
my plans, though I assented willingly; but I found it much 
harder than I expected, when I complied, and realize that 
I might have fainted by the wayside, had it not been for 
Harry’s encouragement. We take little outings together, 
and I find myself steadily improving. Mountain-climb- 
ing is a little too perilous for me to attempt, at present; so 
you find you deprive me of nothing, but in reality, bestow 
a blessing upon the lonely hours of my brother’s absence.” 

The mutual misgivings were all banished upon the basis 
of a friendly understanding. Harry’s good qualities formed 
the theme of conversation for some time, and the hours 
were passing very pleasantly away. 

“What a treasure Harry must be to you all!” exclaimed 
Elva. 

“Yes! I sometimes think he possesses magical powers, 
in gaining whatever he wishes!” responded Hervey. If 
I do not afflict you with too much nepotism, I would like 
to relate the latest sacrifice he is about to make for me.” 

On being assured that he would not, he continued: “I 
am obliged to rest a whole year, and Harry proposes to 


OUT OF TUNE. 


39 


share the vacation with me. Just think what it means to 
him; a whole year right in the midst of his studies; you 
notice he is specially adapted to the study of law, and will 
make one of the most eminent jurists of the age, we hope. 
He excels, or leads, rather, in everything he undertakes; 
he holds first rank both in scholarship and in sports. By 
some forensic eloquence, I know not what, he has gained 
permission from home to do so. When I expostulated with 
him he tried all kinds of arguments, which of course, I 
could not prove to be worthless. He argued, that he might 
need a rest sometime himself, . and there was no time so 
convenient as the present. Then it would allow one of his 
classmates to win the prize for scholarship, which he de- 
sired him to receive. He really advanced so many reasons 
for his proposition that I begun, almost to think I was be- 
stowing a desirable blessing upon him, in allowing him to 
be with me. Though on grave reflection I knew it must 
be otherwise.’’ 

‘‘Such forethought is truly most remarkable!” remarked 
Elva. “I have called him Hercules, froni his great strength, 
but find him also a Plato, and a Solon. I think such a 
precocious youth will not suffer by a rest. He will never 
rust out.” 

“Just what he suggested to me,” said Hervey; “when 
he complained of the poverty of his ideas.” 

A smile of amusement crept over the countenance of 
each as they knew it would be an utter impossibility for 
such an event to occur, while Harry retained his faculties. 

Having exhausted the topic of brotherly love, they turned 
to other subjects, and found by comparison, that each 
held similar ideas on many points. So swiftly flew the 
happy hours away, that luncheon time arrived to their 
amazement. “Can it be possible that the morning has 
flown ? ” asked Hervey in surprise. 

“So it appears!” answered Elva in a tone of incredulity; 
“and I must thank you for a most enjoyable time.” 

“Truly we have verified Harry’s idea of reciprocity,” 


40 


OUT OF TUNE. 


said Hervey; as he rose to depart he asked, you grant 

me the privilege of a short call later on ? ” 

Certainly, Mr. Morriton, with the greatest pleasure!’’ 
responded Elva; adding in her most charming manner, 
‘‘my part of the contract was to amuse you till your brother’s 
return.” 

Hervey Morriton left the presence of Elva Darling with 
a sense of intense gratification. Never had time passed 
so enjoyably away since he had left his beloved books. It 
must be, he thought “because I have found a kindred 
spirit.” 

After finishing luncheon he took a short walk through 
the fields, along the river’s bank. His mind dwelt upon 
the morning’s conversation. He was learning a new lesson ; 
one never found in books, only in the heart. It was the 
greatest lesson ever given to mankind by the divine Teacher; 
that of doing good to others. “What can I do for one 
shut in from these beauties?” he queried. Quick as a 
flash came the answer, “gather the beautiful wild flowers 
as a trophy of your good-will.” 

He selected the fairest of the little messengers of peace; 
they were only the tiny asters, immortelles, and golden-rod ; 
small in value, yet priceless in breathing the fragrance of 
kindness. Returning to the house, he carried the flowers 
with a choice bit of dewy moss to his room, and arranged them 
most artistically in a pretty little willow basket. 

He entered the parlor, carrying the flowers, bowed to 
its fair occupant, and said, with a courtly air: 

“A floral tribute kindly share. 

That gives a breath of woodland air.” 

“O, how sweet!” exclaimd Elva, as she took the basket 
and placed it upon the table. “Thank you ever so kindly 
for your remembrance ; it seems as though I was out among 
the flowers again, when I view their little faces. They are 
my friends and appeal to my sympathies, with their silent 


OUT OF TUNE. 


41 


language which I think I interpret. Again, I thank you, 
as nothing could have given me greater pleasure in the 
present condition. Sometimes, I have come to grief on 
account of my friendship; this mishap is attributable to 
it. I had purposely loitered behind the party to gather 
some rare specimens of a new flower; I had wandered 
quite a distance away; and, having gathered all I could 
see turned to retrace my steps, when I beheld confronting 
me, some huge beast with horns, from which I fled in terror. 
The flowers were scattered I know not where, in my fight, 
and the fancied beast of pray returned to her meal of juicy 
herbage, while I waited for assistance, which Harry so 
ably rendered.” 

‘T am exceedingly sorry for you. Miss Darling, and per- 
haps some day I may find the coveted blossoms for you,” 
said Hervey consolingly. 

Interesting topics presented themselves, and the hours 
were spent in pleasing converse. Each related incidents 
connected with their chosen vocation. Hervey Morriton 
found that in thinking and caring for others, he lost sight 
of self, and was benefited by it. Also, that the long, dreary 
days were growing shorter and brighter. Strange to say, 
he no longer dreaded their dawn, but hailed their approach 
with anticipated delight. ^‘What good fairy, I wonder, 
has taken compassion upon me, by passing her magic 
wand over my heart, and brightening all my life?” he asked 
of himself, as he sat listening to the sweet voice of his enter- 
taining companion. 

So short seemed the time to them, that they supposed 
it might easily be counted by a few brief moments, when 
the exploring party burst into the room with exuberant 
spirits unconscious of the presence of Hervey Morriton, 
exclaiming, ‘‘WeVe had a lovely time; we lunched at the 
summit of the peak and sipped nectar from the spring near 
by, out of dainty little cups fashioned by Harry Morriton. 
O, Elva! he’s the jolliest boy living for an outing! He made 
us all Alpine staffs to cjimb with, and helped us over the 


42 


OUT OF TUNE. 


most dangerous places. He is a very necessary man to 
have around. O, what an exquisite little basket of wild 
flowers! ” cried one. ‘‘What knight of the forest has brought 
you his treasures? Do tell usF’ she pleaded impatiently. 

Harry had followed the party unperceived, into the room, 
making signs to his brother to keep silent in regard to his 
presence by a series of winks. Thinking he might relieve 
Miss Darling ^s embarrassment in giving an answer, he drew 
the attention of the company to himself by breaking into 
a hearty laugh. 

Flora Morey turned upon him immediately and informed 
him in a spirit of retaliation, that “listeners never hear any 
good of themselves!’’ 

“Yes, they do!” retorted Harry; “they hear enough to 
lower their self-esteem, which is beneficial. Now, young 
ladies, allow me to make you acquainted with Professor 
Morriton, my eldest brother.” The girls acknowledged 
the introduction, seeing that the tables had been turned 
upon their champion. 

“And, now, my Little Maid, how have you and the old 
chap enjoyed yourselves? Have you followed out my sug- 
gestions, or chosen your own source of amusement, during 
my absence?” 

We have been discussing the virtues of a modern Solon, 
which we found very interesting,” answered Miss Darling. 

“You went to the past ages, I see, and delved among 
the Grecian myths!” said Harry. “I wonder if you could 
find, among its old heroes, and gods, the lin« which separates 
the true history from the mythological!” Without expect- 
ing an answer he turned to Miss Darling and said, “Your 
coachman awaits your orders.” 

Catching his spirit, she replied, “Tell him I will spend the 
evening with my friends, and that he may call for me later.” 

Amusing smiles flitted across the faces of the happy 
party, at these sallies of wit, as they separated to make 
themselves presentable for the late dinner. They promised 
to meet Elva afterwards and devote the evening to music, 
in honor of her appearance, 


CHAPTER VII. 

The Fairy with Magic Wand. 

The beautiful summer days were drawing to a close. 
The rich golden tints of autumn had already decked the 
foliage with a gorgeous splendor. The Morritons still 
lingered among the late visitors, while Miss Darling was 
yet suffering from the effects of the accident. Four weeks 
had passed, and she was only able to rest the injured foot 
upon the floor, without bearing any weight. 

Her friends had reluctantly left to pursue the intended 
trip to the Maine coast, and were now occupied with their 
respective duties. 

‘‘Have a good time, and do not let my misfortune mar 
your pleasure for an instant; the physician thinks I shall 
fully recover in a few more weeks, and ‘what cannot be 
cured must be endured, ’^she said to them in cheery tones, 
at the parting. 

Elva Darling was the eldest of a large family of children. 
Her father was a hard-working mechanic. He owned a 
small home in a New England village, and made with his 
prudent wife, a severe struggle to educate his children. 
He had never been successful in carrying on business for 
himself, and was at present serving as foreman in a large 
establishment where he was much respected. 

“Mother,’^ he often said to his wife, “we will leave our 
little ones a good education, which no one can take away 
from them. It is the only legacy which we can leave, and 
we will do our best for them.’’ And they had nobly kept 
the promise through all the changing years. 

An aunt of Mr. Darling’s for whom Elva was named, 
at her decease, a few years previous, had left a legacy for 
the education of the children. “Use this as you please, 
Eben, after setting aside one-half to my dear namesake, 
Elva; let her complete the musical education which you 


44 


OUT OF TUNE. 


have begun. Give her the best there is to be found, and 
you will be no loser by it. If there is not sufficient in the 
half, call upon my lawyers, and they will advance from the 
portion set aside for her, if she ever marries.’’ 

These were the conditions of the will, with a caution about 
making known the marriage settlement. This bequest had 
been received with the greatest blessings, and all the in- 
structions had been most faithfully carried out. It enabled 
the loving parents to fulfil their fondest wishes in regard to 
their children. 

The means of an education being furnished, Mr. Darling 
found himself able to clear the mortgage from the old home- 
stead, and place a small insurance on his life, payable to 
him in his declining years. 

Elva was placed under the tuition of the best instructors 
in vocal and instrumental music. She became proficient 
in her favorite art. She desired that she might go to Ger- 
many and extend her education, and through Aunt Elva’s 
means the wish had been gratified. She spent two years of 
diligent study both in music and German, and returned a 
musical wonder, not only to her parents, but also to friends. 
For the past year she had ably filled a most responsible 
position as instructor of music in a select seminary for young 
ladies. She was thorough and patient with her pupils and 
won their hearts by her winning ways. She was in hopes 
to be present at the opening session of the seminary which 
took place the latter part of September; but as time sped 
on, she saw that it was impossible. 

Though eager to be engaged with her work, Elva found 
the time did not drag upon her hands; she knew that her 
enjoyment was due, in a measure, to the Morritons. Harry 
still constituted himself as her ^‘coachman,” and carried 
her to and fro from the parlor, in spite of her demures, at 
the lengthened need of service. 

The daily visits of Hervey were looked forward to with 
great pleasure by both; yet, neither knew how much de- 
pended upon the other, to mlake the pleasing anticipation 
a happy realization. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


45 


Hervey passed nearly all his time in the presence of the 
afflicted maiden. They found many interesting topics 
of conversation. Both minds were well stored with facts 
and historical events ; they had visited the same places upon 
the Continent, and experienced much joy in recalling the 
beauties and wonders of the different places and all the vast 
attractions of a past age. A new glow gilded each scene, as 
memory presented it to their vision. 

The good fairy was using her magic wand over Hervey’s 
cares, and chasing them all away; but he did not recognize 
her. He seemed satisfied with her assistance, without 
investigating the method, a thing contrary to his usual 
custom. He only realized that a sweet sense of content- 
ment rested upon him, and in some strange, pleasing way, 
his annoying desires had taken flight. He thought his 
state of mind was largely attributable to his renewed state 
of health. 

Harry, with his quick perception, saw the state of affairs 
and was greatly amused at their expense. ‘‘What I feared 
has taken place, in spite of me!^^ he said to himself. “I 
see I am no match for Cupid ^s darts, so I will let the ‘turtle 
doves’ alone. It is a temptation, though, to have a little 
fun with them; but. I’ll wait till the ‘Little Darling’ is 
around, and able to defend herself.” 

“Hervey!” shouted Harry, as he entered the room on his 
return from a ramble, don’t you wish little Unie could get 
a glimpse of these grand old mountains? How her mild 
eyes would glisten with admiration! I suppose you have 
told the Little Maid every item concerning her, during some 
of your many conversations.” 

“I plead guilty to the omission,” answered Hervey. “I 
had not reached the absent ones; there were so many 
interesting items that the time has passed away without 
my knowledge.” 

“A grave oversight!” replied Harry humorously; “and, 
when I had depended on you, to make clear my allusion to 
the practice of carrying ladies around! Let me inform you 


46 


OUT OF TUNE. 


that twenty-four hours make a day as of old; and, what 
you two can find to talk about so much, without gossip 
concerning your fellow-creatures is utterly beyond my 
comprehension. ’’ 

A look of inquiry was visible upon the countenances of 
the catechised pair, and each wondered what form of in- 
terrogation Harry’s next query would take, when he inter- 
rupted their surmises, by jumping up and exclaiming, 
^‘Halloo, there comes the coach! I’ll run out and see if 
there is any one I know among the arrivals ; see you later, 
and report.” 

Silence followed his departure; Elva and Hervey were 
each asking of themselves if Harry’s pertinent remarks 
were well founded. They searched to see if it were true that 
they were absorbed in each other, to the exclusion of all 
others. Both were finding the same result, judging from 
their satisfied looks. 

Elva found that a deep sense of enjoyment had crept 
into her life, which she had never experienced before. ‘Ht 
may be,” she argued, ^Hhat because I am disabled, I have 
seized upon the first opportunity which presented itself, 
to beguile away the weary time, that must elapse before I 
am restored to my normal state. She searched very carefully 
to see if she had been exacting or over-anxious for Mr. 
Morriton’s company. She found that nearly all her thoughts 
were centered upon him. She was happy when convers- 
ing with him on some favorite subject; happy in following 
his lead through abstruse research; happy in thought of 
him during absence; happy in anticipating his return; in 
fact, always happy since she had known him, even in 
affliction. In her thorough search she could find no way 
wherein she had been at fault. Harry brought him to me 
for amusement, and I have only fulfilled his request,” she 
said to her inquiring heart, as if to excuse her great interest. 

do hope,” she continued, ^‘he does not think me a petted 
child who must be indulged in absurd fancies, or amused 
at any expense, even against his own inclinations. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


47 


Etiquette forbids that I should seek an answer to such fancies, 
and I will wait for him to break his meditative mood; unless 
he gets too deep in one of those mooning fits, against which 
Harry warned me. I do wish, just at present, I possessed 
a little of his tact, to change the subject from its present 
drift.” 

Hervey Morriton was undergoing a more rigid investiga- 
tion than his companion. He knew that the hours spent 
in Elva Darling’s presence were the happiest in all his life. 
The fascination was strengthened with every meeting, and 
was more absorbing than his beloved books. The truth 
was dawning upon him; have met one who is greater 
than a kindred spirit; one, with whom I can exchange 
thoughts and ideas. I have found one who can assist me 
in the fields of science, and encourage with her sympathetic 
aid through all its devious ways. Already her gentle in- 
fluence has crept upon me unawares, and I am studying 
her wishes, and find myself a gainer, thereby, instead of a 
loser,” he confided to himself. ‘Hn truth, I have found 
the fairy with magic wand. She has been a trusty guide 
in my case, and I hope will play none of her wild pranks 
upon me. I will still follow the fascinating path which 
she points out, and learn her mission. Where will she 
lead, I wonder?” He was apparently lost in the contem- 
plation of some engrossing subject, when his attention was 
arrested by a deep-drawn sigh from Elva which recalled 
the wandering senses from fancy’s realms to the present 
surroundings. 

Elva saw that he had fallen into one of his dreamy moods, 
from which she must arouse him. She broke the silence, 
by saying, think Harry must have found a friend, among 
the arrivals, to prevent his return, don’t you ? ” 

“Undoubtedly,” replied Hervey. The question brought 
them to the commonplace things of life, and banished the 
perilous flights of the imagination. “He will probably 
return ere long, with a budget of news which will astonish 
us.” 


48 


OUT OF TUNE. 


“That will be nothing out of the ordinary,’’ remarked 
Elva. “I am afraid,” she continued, pleased that the old 
method of conversation had been resumed, “that I shall 
be deprived of the pleasure of attending the opera, during 
the coming season; certainly if this offending member 
does not mend itself faster than it has been doing of late. 
Though I am grateful for the little improvement.” 

“We will hope for the best; perhaps if that pleasure is 
denied, you may have a greater one given in its place,” 
said Hervey, consolingly, bestowing upon her a look of 
tender compassion, which comforted the longing heart. 

They discussed the operas, the prima-doiinas, and the 
grand old masters. The moments glided swittly by, and 
they no longer noted Harry’s absence. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

An Unexpected Appearance. 

Harry rushed out to the piazza, and stood watching the 
passengers alight from the coach. All at once he made a 
spring down the steps, exclaiming, ‘‘Great Scott! what 
has happened to bring those two here! Halloo, Doc! 
How are you, old boy?’^ he cried grasping his brother by 
the hand. “And Aunt Lida, how are you?^^ he asked, 
giving her a resounding kiss in presence of them all. “By 
the shades of my unknown ancestors! Who would have 
thought of seeing you two here? Come in, and tell me 
by what miracle you have invaded our mountain retreat?^’ 
He conducted them inside, and made the necessary arrange- 
ments for rooms. “I suppose you are tired, dusty, and 
hungry,’^ he added by way of inquiry. 

On being assured to the contrary, he led them into a 
small sitting-room, to learn if possible, the cause of this 
remarkable visit. 

“How is Hervey?’’ they asked. “Where is he? And 
when can we see him?’’ 

“O, he’s all right!” he answered complaisantly. “That 
is, he is gaining and don’t complain of being so tired. At 
present he is most agreeably engaged, and I have just left 
him to see if there were any I knew among the passengers. 
Won’t he be surprised when he finds out! But do tell me 
all about the dear ones at home. I know of course that they 
are at Rosevale for the summer. But what brings you 
two here is utterly beyond the power of my imagination!” 

“Father and mother are in their usual health,” replied 
Doctor Herbert; “and happy in learning of Hervey’s 
improvement.” 

“Violet is as restless, and busy as ever; she is investigat- 
ing a new science, or rather an old religion, under a new 
name. A mystical order, I believe, or some other mystery.” 


50 


OUT OF TUNE. 


responded Aunt Lida. ^‘Unie is as patient and amiable 
as ever. She is greatly amused with your letters, and says 
it seems as though she could see the very places you de- 
scribe so accurately.’^ 

‘‘Poor little pet!” said Harry, “I must write her soon; 
how much she loses of life! ” 

“What did you mean, Harry, by the threatened evil?” 
inquired Aunt Lida. 

“Just what I wrote!” replied Harry; “but it came in 
spite of my precautions. Why, Doc, he’s found an elixir 
of life not known in the whole materia medica, which 
eclipses all the discoveries of the ages; that of love. But 
it is doing him a world of good, making him forget self, 
and his fascinating books. I, for one, am glad of it, though 
she’s not my style, you know. You will be astonished 
when you see him, so prepare yourselves for a miraculous 
change.” 

With these preliminary remarks, Harry conducted them 
to the parlor. “Miss Darling,” said he, “permit me to 
make you acquainted with Doctor Herbert, the most relia- 
ble physician of the age, and Aunt Lida, the best aunt in 
the ‘wide, wide world.’” 

She acknowledged the introduction, with extended hand, 
asking them to excuse her from rising on account of a lame 
foot. 

Hervey grasped his brother’s hand with expressive joy, 
and kissed Aunt Lida upon both cheeks with a royal wel- 
come. “How glad I am to see you both! We were won- 
dering what had become of Harry and knew it was some 
rich treat that he had in store, but never expected this. 
But, excuse me, one moment; Harry’s introductions are 
often ambiguous, and I find I must make this clear to you. 
Miss Darling. Doctor Herbert and Aunt Lida are both 
members of the Morriton family. I think, now, there can 
be no misunderstanding.” 

“I gathered as much from the demonstrations;” replied 
Elva. And, would express my best wishes to you, for the 
arrival of your relatives.” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


SI 

“Thank you!” said Hervey. “We are all delighted, 
and will brighten the hours for you.^’ 

Aunt Lida at once constituted herself as Elva^s nurse 
and champion. “I don^t wonder Hervey fell in love with 
the ‘Little Darling;’ I think we all have, except Harry. 
She looks so much like Unie we cannot help it. I don’t 
believe she has been treated properly, here in the country 
where everything is so behind times. I’ll ask Herbert, 
and see what he advises, he surely will know if he hasn’t 
practised much. Six weeks! and not able to walk yet, 
from a sprained ankle. Why the idea is preposterous!” 
she thought. 

The same evening after Elva had withdrawn to her room. 
Aunt Lida consulted Doctor Herbert about the case, and 
receiving some valuable suggestions, she went to Elva’s 
door and knocked for admission. 

Receiving a summons to enter, she did so, saying, “I 
thought I would just look in, my dear, and see you settled 
for the night. How is the foot? What do you have done 
for it, before retiring ? ” she inquired, in a quick, nervous 
manner. 

“It is aching very much to-night,” answered Elva; “but 
it always does, when the bandages are removed, and I am 
getting accustomed to it, thank you. Sometimes it keeps 
me awake a greater part of the night. Miss Morriton.” 

“You poor, neglected child!” cried Aunt Lida. “We 
will put an end to that thing, and make you comfortable 
for one night, at least. I thought as much,” she mur- 
mured to herself. 

Stepping to the bell she gave it a vigorous pull, which 
was immediately answered by an attendant. “Bring me 
a foot tub, plenty of hot water, and a little alcohol, if you 
have it, please,” she ordered. The articles were soon placed 
at her disposal, when she proposed to give the foot and 
ankle a good bath in the hot water, a gentle rubbing with 
alcohol, and then bandage it for the night. 

After successfully carrying out these operations, she asked 
solicitously, “How do you feel now, my dear?” 


52 


OUT OF TUNE. 


“Ever so much better, thank you,’^ replied Elva. “How 
shall I express my gratitude, for such great kindness to me 
a perfect stranger!^’ she asked, and gave vent to her feel- 
ings in a flood of tears. 

“Thank me for doing my duty!’^ retorted Aunt Lida. 
“It is unnecessary nonsense; my creed teaches me to 
minister unto the sick; and I am never so happy as when 
fussing over some one. I have no girls of my own, there- 
fore, I am obliged to fuss over those belonging to other 
people. So get into bed, and I will read to you, as I often 
do for Unie. Have they told you about her?^’ she asked 
turning her mind into another channel. 

“Only that she is the sister whom Harry carries around 
sometimes,’^ answered Elva. 

“She is our pet invalid,’’ quietly informed Aunt Lida. 
“That is, she is so frail, she is not able to be with us very 
much, but compelled to stay in her room nearly all the time. 
She has been an invalid since she was four years of age. You 
remind me very much of her, with your hair and eyes; she 
is also small as you are. We all worship her, and when 
Harry is at home he carries her easily around both in doors 
and out. And, now, if you would like me to imagine I 
have her with me, just call me Aunt Lida.” 

“I will. Aunt Lida!” readily agreed Elva. “I should be 
highly entertained in hearing you read, if not asking too 
much.” 

Without replying to these remarks. Aunt Lida continued, 
“I fortunately have the next room to yours, and I notice 
there is a door connecting the two; now, if you have no 
objection I will remove the bolt, so that I may hear you, 
if you need any assistance during the night. Don’t hesitate 
to speak if you should. I am accustomed to run in to Unie, 
so shall not mind it, in the least. I will bring in one of 
Marietta Holly’s interesting books, Unie’s favorite.” 

And Aunt Lida returned with the book bearing the title, 
“My Wayward Pardner,” and selected the chapter contain- 
ing an account of the summer boarders. She read in soft, 


OUT OF TUNE. 


S3 


low, dreamy tones of Samantha's meditations, and trials 
with Josiah, and soon found from the regular breathing, 
that her patient had gone to the realms of dreamland, even 
before she had finished the chapter. Yet, she read on in the 
same sweet monotone to the end, lest the sleeper might 
miss the accompaniment to her light slumbers. Satisfied, 
at length, that she was safely sheltered in the arms of Mor- 
pheus, she walked gently to the door, fastened it, and crossed 
to her own room, with the step of one that was acquainted 
with the sick-room. 

It is needless, almost, to state that Elva rested quietly 
through the night, and awoke the next morning greatly 
refreshed. Aunt Lida repeated the same course every 
evening and Elva improved greatly under the new regime. 

^‘How would you like a ride to-day, my dear?" asked 
Aunt Lida, one morning. 

“O, ever so much, if you thought it would not hurt me!" 
answered Elva with glowing eyes. 

‘‘Hurt you!" she repeated, “Of course it will not! It is 
the greatest wonder that you have not injured your consti- 
tution, staying housed up, for six long weeks. We have a 
fine programme arranged, and there is no reason why 
you should not make one of us. We can place a hassock 
under your baby-foot, making you as comfortable as though 
you were in that very chair. We propose to ride as far as 
we can to the Flume; you can sit and rest in the carriage 
while the others explore the wilds, till they return; then we 
drive to the Profile House, take a good rest, and get dinner, 
after which we resume our drive forward to Echo Lake 
then return home. Has the outing sufficient attraction 
for you to make the attempt ? " 

“Indeed it has!" replied Elva, enthusiastically. “I 
wish I were well, though," she added. 

“If you were, you would not be here!" rebukingly re- 
torted Aunt Lida. “Be content with present blessings, 
not dissatisfied." 

“That is true. Aunt Lida; I will endeavor to make the 


54 


OUT OF TUNE. 


most of this day’s freedom, in being just as happy as possible. 
It shall be a ‘ Red Letter ’ day to me, celebrating my eman- 
cipation from illness!” she said with meekness. ‘T know 
it is wrong for me to complain, when I have a coachman 
ever ready for my commands.” 

‘‘That’s the right spirit,” said the Aunt approvingly. 
“You possess the right material. Always think of some 
worse off than yourself, and you can get reconciled to nearly 
everything.” 

The original plan was carried out as arranged, affording 
great pleasure to all. It was but the beginning of many 
similar days’ enjoyment to Elva, during Aunt Lida’s stay. 

Shortly afterwards it lay in her power to contribute to 
her benefactor’s happiness. It was a rainy day; one of 
those rains in which the very skies seemed to open and 
empty themselves of all their stores. She was playing an 
amusing game of chess with Hervey; Aunt Lida was sitting 
near by, interested alike, in a book and the players. Though 
a difficult operation, she managed it admirably, judging 
from the satisfied expression which spread over her features. 

“Little Maid,” said Harry, entering the room, “what 
can we do to amuse ourselves the rest of the day? We 
have played ninepins and billiards till I am tired of the sound 
of the balls; it pours so, there is no show out of doors; I 
am at my wits’ end, and have come to you for a suggestion.” 

“I don’t know of anything unless I give you a little 
music, which I should be pleased to furnish if you will 
kindly push my chair to the piano,” said Elva. Harry 
complied with the request, and she seated herself at the fine 
instrument. “Now, what would you like?” she asked, 
animatedly. 

“Anything you please!” answered Harry. “Beggars 
should not be choosers!’” 

Elva ran her fingers over the keys, as if caressing a famil- 
iar object from which she had been separated; then, took 
up one of Mendelssohn’s beautiful “Songs without Words.” 
From this, she passed to selections from Schubert, Strauss, 


OUT OF TUNE. 


55 


and Wagner. Her listeners saw that a professional hand 
was striking the keys, and were enraptured. Her audi- 
ence had increased till nearly all the guests of the house 
were drawn to the vicinity of the sweet sounds. ‘Hs that 
sufficient, or shall I keep on?’’ she asked of Harry, stand- 
ing near by. 

‘^Yes, do if you are not tired. My, but wouldn’t my 
sister Violet like to find you for a musicale! You beat 
Paderewski himself!” said Harry rapturously. ‘^But could 
you leave the classics and give us a little of the ordinary, 
such as waltzes, polkas, and such like? Something with 
a jingle?” 

‘Certainly, if you like; I am not the least mite wearied, 
as I am accustomed to play five and six hours often, at a 
time,” she answered, with a smile. 

Aunt Lida quietly placed a hassock under the foot, and 
she kept on till the gong was sounded for dinner, promising 
to play again for them in the evening. 


CHAPTER IX. 

Aunt Lida^s Invitation. 

The evening in which Elva Darling fulfilled her promise 
to Harry was a memorable one to all assembled at the 
house. Outside it was dark and dreary; the wind swept 
by in moaning gusts; the rain beat piteously against the 
window panes; the mountain brook rushed and roared 
with the thunder of a cataract, on its way to the mighty river 
overflowing its banks. The flowers dropped their tiny 
heads upon a watery couch. The grand old giants of the 
forest mingled their tears in unison with the clouds. The 
very elements seemed united in a vast deluge. 

Inside, the scene presented a great contrast. There 
was warmth, and sunshine; a large fire from an open grate 
sent its genial rays around. Strains of melody issued from 
happy voices, filling all with exquisite pleasure. 

On Harry’s return to the obliging pianist, he deposited 
an armful of books upon the floor, exclaiming as he did so, 
‘‘There Little Maid, if you are willing, we’ll serenade the 
natives. I wondered what Hervey was bringing all those 
books for, and, now, I see. I slipped the College Songs in 
for myself, you know,” he ran breathlessly on, ‘‘Hervey 
and the Doctor are fine singers, if you can get them started.” 

Some one asked, “Doesn’t Miss Darling sing?” 

“A little,” she modestly replied. 

Cries of “song! song! song, please!” echoed from all 
quarters, till she was obliged to accede to their numerous 
demands. She sang Tennyson’s “Song of the Brook,” 
for the first selection. It was received with many thanks, 
amid which she struck the opening bars of “II Trovatore,” 
and sang that pathetic song, “Ah, I have Sighed for Rest.” 
A hush fell upon the company at its close, then bursts of 
applause rang from all. 

“A little!” repeated Harry. “A nightingale I would 
have called you, had I only known it!” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


57 


“Miss Darling, you must be weary after your efforts,’’ 
said Hervey. “Will you allow Herbert to take your place? 
We must not tax you too much.” 

“O no, please, Mr. Morritonl” said Elva. “I am en- 
joying it very much, and not weary in the least. I must 
hear you and the Doctor sing, and will play your accom- 
paniments, and then, there are Harry’s college songs, which 
we must not overlook.” 

Song after song rang out in rich cadences upon the moun- 
tain air. Solos, duetts, trios, and quartettes so finely ren- 
dered that even the birds might pause to catch the sweet 
notes. The chorus of college songs awoke the echoes of the 
glens. At their close a vote of thanks was extended to Miss 
Darling, which she most graciously accepted. “Three 
cheers and a tiger,” cried Harry not willing to be outdone 
by any. They were given, till the very rafters shook with 
the lusty shouts. 

The party separated at ten o’clock, remarking in their 
exit, “The best time I ever had!” “The best rainy day 
I ever saw!” “I wish it might rain more often!” “Let’s 
invite our neighbors in next time!” “The stage has not 
taken all the stars!” 

Every evening afterwards, during the remainder of their 
stay the visitors were entertained with music by the “Moun- 
tain Nightingale;” a name which they had given Elva as 
a mark of their appreciation of her talents. 

Doctor Herbert and Aunt Lida had been with the boys 
nearly two weeks, and were talking of returning to Rose- 
vale. They saw that Hervey was gaining wonderfully. 
His old physician knew that his mind must be free from 
anxiety, and hoped by sending Harry with him, he could 
accomplish it. What he had failed to do, Elva, with her sweet 
winning ways, had most unconsciously done. She was 
rrtterly ignorant of the great amount of good which she had 
so artlessly bestowed; and, none were so conscious of this 
as Hervey himself. 

Elva had improved greatly under Aunt Lida’s ministra- 


OUT OF TUNE. 


S8 

tions; that they had been most efficient was shown by the 
increasing strength of the injured foot. The swelling was 
diminishing, while she was enabled to bear her weight 
moderately upon it a little each day. But she shrank with 
apprehension, when she heard the Morritons speak of de- 
parting. She was even selfish enough to wish that they 
might prolong their stay till she was ready to depart; and 
felt she would be in a few more weeks, if Aunt Lida could 
be with her. 

‘^Herbert,” said the ever-anxious Aunt, one afternoon, 
as they had gathered for a short time with Elva, ‘‘don^t you 
think we had better be drawing our visit to an end? We 
told Unie we would remain only a week, while we have 
nearly doubled the time. She must think we have found 
something wonderful to keep us so long.’’ 

‘‘Well, I should like to know if you haven’t?” inquired 
Harry; what more do you want when you have found a 
mountain nymph, and a nightingale! ‘Some people want 
the earth,’ as the boys say. You ought to be satisfied. 
I only hope Hervey and I will find such company all the 
time we are away.” 

Harry’s remarks caused a smile to run over all the faces 
except Elva’s; she had comprehended the meaning and 
dropped her eyes in modest confusion. 

Hervey came to the rescue, noticing her embarrassment: 
“Yes, Aunt Lida, I am afraid our pleasant days must soon 
terminate. The time has been so delightful here at the 
mountains, and I am feeling so much improved, I had not 
noticed its flight. Harry and I expect to visit the Adiron- 
dacks from here, and winter in California. But, I do not 
anticipate so much pleasure at any place as I have found 
here,” he added contemplatively. 

“ I would like to take Elva with us to Rosevale, for awhile,” 
said Aunt Lida to Herbert. “Unie would be so pleased to 
make her acquaintance, and I vouchsafe they will do each 
other a vast amount of good. You might stay, my dear, 
till you are sufficiently recovered to resume your duties. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


59 


Can^t you, Miss Darling?’’ she asked, turning to the 
astonished girl. 

‘‘Why, Aunt Lida, what do you mean?” questioned 
Elva, too surprised to trust her own senses. “Could I 
have understood correctly?” she asked herself; “Certainly 
I did!” she reassured her wavering mind. “But how shall 
I accept such unheard of kindness?” she queried, while 
she tried to arrange a satisfactory answer both to Aunt 
Lida, and her own craving heart. 

Harry, with his natural impulsiveness, interrupted her 
misgivings by exclaiming, “The best thing under the sun! 
You’ve played the trump card at the right time. Auntie, and 
won the game!” He caught her in his arms and made a 
pirouette around the room, expressive of the exuberance 
of his spirits. 

“I should be pleased, Aunt Lida, to accept your lovely 
offer, but know it is trespassing too much on your kindness. 
I have been granted leave of absence as long is it is required, 
and think by Christmas I shall be able to resume work, 
in my normal state, owing to your great care of me. But, 
believe me, I am extremely grateful for the kind invitation. 
As soon as I am able to travel I will spend a few weeks with 
the dear ones at home. Mother has wished to send one of 
my sisters to stay with me, but I assured her I was in the 
best of hands; and I am improving so rapidly now, it is 
unnecessary.” 

“There are no ‘buts’ in the case,” said Harry. 

“We should be highly favored, Miss Darling, to have 
you accept our invitation, and will do all in our power to 
contribute to your happiness. In order for you to fully 
recover the use of your foot, you must give it more time 
than you have allowed. It was more than an ordinary 
case of strained muscles and ligaments. If you were a 
little nearer New York, I would like to have the advice of a 
celebrated physician concerning it,” said Dr. Herbert. 

“Do you fear any serious danger?” eagerly asked Elva, 
fearing that some new trouble might be known to the Doctor. 


6o 


OUT OF TUNE. 


‘^O, no!” answered Dr. Herbert, with assurance. 
only know that you must give the foot the necessary time 
to recover, to prevent being lame for life. If you are 
patient it will come all right ; but you must be exceedingly 
careful,’’ he added with a professional air. 

“I will try;” responded Elva. ‘T would like very much 
to go with Aunt Lida, to your beautiful home on the 
Hudson, but feel assured you would all enjoy it better, 
sometime when I am well. I do not like to inconvenience 
any one, as I fear I might in my present condition.” 
They noticed the look of sadness stealing over Elva’s face 
when she stated her objections to accepting the invitation. 

‘inconvenience!” repeated Harry; “what did I tell you 
about reciprocity, a few weeks ago? Have you forgotten 
it, I wonder! inconvenience!’” he reiterated. “The 
absurd idea of you thinking such a thing possible, when 
you could give so much pleasure to the folks at home by 
your music. Violet would idolize and rave over you, 
and you could even help little Unie in forgetting her pains, 
with your sweet songs. ‘ Inconvenience any one — ’ having 
such a voice!” 

“Why, Harry,” said Elva animatedly, “if I could be of 
any use, I would be delighted to go! Do you think I could 
be. Aunt Lida?” she asked with a new interest. 

“I know it!” quietly answered Aunt Lida. “What 
Harry says is the absolute truth.” 

“Then, I most gratefully accept the invitation, and will 
stay till you are tired of me,” said Elva, restored to her 
customary light-hearted manner. 

“That’s a bargain, mind you. Little Maid, and we are 
the witnesses! Yet, there is another thing I would like 
you to do for me, in amusing Unie. You must describe 
all the places here, which you have seen that I have not 
sketched for her. I have been so busy of late, I have not 
had time to do any. I wish you would try and supply my 
delinquency.’ ’ 

“Sketches! Sketches!” echoed Hervey and the Doctor. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


6i 


Explain yourself, please, and inform us what muse you have 
invoked to your aid, for such a task!’’ 

“It is a little secret I shared with Unie and Aunt Lida,” 
answered Harry. “I often sketch, or caricature anything 
interesting, and send it to Unie,” he explained. “In fact, 
I am thinking strongly of sending my contributions to 
Puck and Judge ^ and add to my income. Would you 
advise it?” 

“O Harry, won’t you show some of them to us?” eagerly 
inquired Elva. 

“Sorry to refuse your request, but the best of all my 
endeavors are in Unie’s possession; if you desire to see 
them, I know she will satisfy your curiosity, especially if 
you say I was willing,” he calmly answered. She knew 
from his emphasis the subject of the caricatures, and felt 
assured they were of her fright over the cow. 

This arrangement was satisfactory to all, and especially 
so to Hervey. He knew that Elva would be very happy 
with his sisters and parents, though he was reticent in 
showing his pleasure. 

“You will let me know how you stood the journey. Miss 
Darling, won’t you?” he said at parting, when he grasped 
her hand in an affectionate clasp, and glanced tenderly 
into her eyes. 

After the departure of Aunt Lida, Dr. Herbert, and Elva, 
it seemed very lonely to the boys. “ Don’t it seem lonesome 
here, without the ‘Little Darling’ ? ” Harry asked his brother, 
a few days after their exit. 

“Yes, ” replied Hervey, thinking he missed her more than 
his inquirer knew. “I am ready to leave for the Adiron- 
dacks any time.” 

“All right! we will start tomorrow, if the weather is 
suitable,” answered Harry. 

They did so, carrying with them the memory of a glorious 
time. 


CHAPTER X. 

Little Unie. 

Violet and Eunice Morriton, though twins, were totally 
unlike; they differed not only in character, but in tempera- 
ment. Each was beautiful in her own distinctive style of 
gracefulness, while both were, in a measure, counterparts 
of their parents. 

Violet inherited the stronger constitution; a fine phy- 
sique, and a symmetrical figure. She was naturally strong 
and reliable. A marked originality gave evidence of rare 
genius. A spirit of independence gave her the leadership 
among her associates, not from any undue officiousness 
which she exhibited, but from their own voluntary acknowl- 
edgment of the superiority of her attainments. She bore 
greater resemblance to the father than to the mother; from 
him she had taken the reflective habit, though she carried 
it to a greater extent than he did; that is, she would sac- 
rifice her own happiness, rather than go contrary to a deci- 
sion which she had formed after much consideration. She 
was neither cold nor exacting, but very attractive, and 
lovely in many ways. 

Violet was beautiful with the rich coloring of a brunette. 
She resembled the mother in this respect, being what Mrs. 
Morriton had been in her youth. She had the same sweet 
expression of countenance; the same clear complexion; 
the same deep, brilliant, fascinating eyes, when in repose; 
but the struggling spirit within, often gave them a deeper 
brilliancy, and darker hue, which only increased their 
magnetic power, and intensified their owner’s loveliness. 
A full, high forehead showed a fondness for language and 
music. The nose was Grecian, making the face as perfect in 
its contour as the classic heads carved so delicately upon 
the face of a cameo. The mouth, wdth its thin lips showed 
firmness and decision. Soft and abundant chestnut-brown 


OUT OF TUNE. 


63 


hair was her ‘‘crowning glory.^’ It crept to the forehead 
in curling waves, making a rich frame for an exquisite 
picture. 

Eunice, or Unie as she was the more frequently called, 
was the opposite of her sister in nearly every way. She 
was one of the fairest of blondes; she possessed that clear 
white complexion, as of satin, while the soft pink of the 
blush rose suffused the cheeks. The eyes were the hue of 
the modest violet found in the valley shrinking away from 
the bustling crowd. The forehead was low, though full, 
showing noble traits of benevolence and veneration; and 
indicating, at the same time, great intellectual powers. 

Golden hair adorned the well-formed head, and fell pro- 
fusely in tiny ringlets upon the sloping shoulders. She 
was small in stature, and of slight figure, resembling the 
mother; from her she had inherited that kind sympathetic 
spirit, which enabled her to assist those in trouble. By 
nature she was frail and dependent. She lacked that 
strength of endurance with which her sister was so liberally 
supplied. As a slender vine clings to a stronger object for 
support to Unie clung to Violet for strength and shelter. 

Unie possessed the faculties of ideality and wit in an 
extraordinary degree, which she often exercised for Harry’s 
benefit. Indeed, they were kindred spirits, and each 
contributed to the other’s enjoyment, often making happy 
hours in the long, weary days which had fallen upon the 
little sister’s life. She held an intense love for art, and 
would have made an artist of no small merit, had she not 
been prevented by physical debility. 

From infancy, the difference between the sisters was 
noticeable. One was strong; the other weak; one run 
about, with the bounding steps of a vigorous child, making 
the home merry with her wild bursts of laughter; the other 
tripped with light footsteps along the sister’s path, sending 
sending forth her little rills of mirth like the echo of a silver 
bell. 

“Mother,” said Violet one day in childhood, “why can’t 
Unie play with me ? She says she’s tired. ” 


64 


OUT OF TUNE. 


^‘My child/’ answered the mother, ‘‘Unie is not so strong 
as you are. She is weak.” 

‘‘Why ain’t she? She is just as old as I am!” persisted 
the reflective Violet. 

“Because God made her weak, and you strong,” said 
the mother, trying if she could to satisfy her. 

“Why did He do that? Why didn’t He make her just 
like me, so we both could run and play and not get tired?” 
asked the puzzled child. 

The mother saw that the child had touched a theological 
point which was beyond her power of comprehension. 
She was silent a few moments, pondering what knowledge 
she could impart, that would satisfy the anxious little one 
sitting so patiently at her feet awaiting an answer. 

“Violet,” she said, “God made us all as He thought it 
would be best; some strong, and others weak; some large, 
others small; some rich, others poor; I think He wants 
the rich ones to help the poor, and the strong to take care 
of the weak.” 

“I see, mother,” answered the satisfied child. “I must 
take care of Unie, ’cause I’m stronger!” And, she bounded 
away, learning a new truth which remained with her, 
throughout life. She thus early became her sister’s cham- 
pion, and watched over her with unremitting zeal. 

The bond of sympathy established in childhood strength- 
ened with the growth of years. The shielded sister 
became a solace to the stronger, when the sorrows of life 
seemed to overwhelm her very soul. The deeds of kind- 
ness were more than repaid a hundred fold. 

Unie was an easy prey to all the diseases incident to child- 
hood. At the early age of four, she fell a victim to pneu- 
monia ; it prostrated her so greatly that it seemed as though 
the frail life must succumb in spite of its struggles. She 
lay like a broken lily; all hope had even fled, when she 
gradually rallied, and they knew that she would live. She 
never fully recovered her strength from the dreadful en- 
counter. The lungs were weakened by the attack, and the 
greatest care was necessary to alleviate her weakness. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


6S 


She was loved by all; from parents, brothers, sister, 
servants and friends, she received the most faithful service, 
and reciprocated from her vast treasury of love, often be- 
stowing more than an equivalent. Her dearest love was 
given to her sister Violet, whose need she always perceived, 
even before it was expressed. Her life was like a sweet 
little poem so beautifully illustrated by the following lines : 

‘‘Little deeds of kindness. 

Little words of love. 

Make our earth an Eden 
Like the heaven above.” 

Truly, it was a taste of Eden to be in her presence. 

Unie’s education was but limited, on account of loss of 
health. No regular course was pursued. An intelligent 
comprehension imparted aknowledge of what came under 
her observation. The memory was retentive, enabling 
her to learn much that otherwise she might have lost. Only 
at times was it prudent to satisfy the thirst for knowledge. 
Instruction was conveyed through readings by the mother 
Aunt Lida, Violet and a companion who, also, combined 
the qualities of a governess. Most carefully was the ut- 
most caution observed that nothing might tire the little 
enthusiast. 

The talent of drawing which she possessed in a remarka- 
ble degree gave great pleasure, not only to herself, but to 
others of the family. She frequently illustrated with pencil 
any special scene which had amused her in a reading. It 
seemed as natural for her to draw as it was to speak. 

Unie’s rooms were among the finest in the Morriton 
Mansion. They opened upon the balcony overlooking 
the court and park. Every provision necessary for her 
comfort had been made. The suite contained three rooms, 
a parlor, boudoir and sleeping apartment; all were daintily 
furnished in blue, white and gold, in harmony with the 
tastes of the fair possessor 


66 


OUT OF TUNE. 


She spent nearly all the time in her own apartments, 
and ‘‘received her visitors in state,’’ Harry said. She was 
contented and happy in possessing “the pearl of greatprice.” 
She was in harmony with life; in consonance with the 
Father’s will. 


CHAPTER XI. 

The Fairies’ Abode. 

The return of Doctor Herbert and Aunt Lida, accom- 
panied by Miss Darling occasioned great surprise among 
the Morritons; they were cognizant of the philanthropic 
spirit which dominated the life of their relative, and had 
often assisted in acts of benevolence. But, she had never 
ventured before, to bring a protege home, and they ques- 
tioned her wisdom, while they sought a reason for the 
strange proceeding. 

The carriage had been sent to the landing to meet them, 
in answer to a telegram from Herbert, who said nothing 
concerning a stranger; accordingly, they supposed the 
new guest to be some one whom their aunt had found 
upon the way home. As soon as the piazza was reached. 
Aunt Lida, intent upon command, rose with a bustling 
air, saying, Herbert, you run into the house and tell them 
all about Elva, while I go upstairs with her; here, Jimmie,” 
she added, turning to the astonished gardener, who stood 
a short distance away, ‘‘you carry this young lady upstairs 
to the parlor; you can do it easier than the coachman, as 
you are in practice.” 

“Why, Aunt Lidal” expostulated Elva; “I can walk! 
I am not very tired. I will go slowly! ” 

“Walk!” she repeated; “not if I have to carry you 
myself! I am truly glad you are improving so fast, as not 
to feel ‘very tired’ after a whole day’s travel. I own, I 
am ‘very tired.’ And I am exceedingly glad, my young 
friend, I have you under my supervision a while longer.” 

Aunt Lida had relieved her mind while Jimmie was 
getting ready for the required service. “Miss Darling, 
let me give you into Mr. Knight’s care,” she said, by w’ay 
of an introduction. “He carries Unie about, so you need 
indulge no fear.” 


68 


OUT OF TUNE. 


‘‘There, Unie! I have brought you a real live doll to 
play with!’^ she exclaimed, as Jimmie deposited his bur- 
den in a large easy chair. 

“What do you mean. Auntie?” queried Unie. “I am 
so pleased to see you back; I have missed you so much! 
I am too old for dolls, but know I shall like whatever you 
have brought me. Let me see it, please.” She rose from 
the couch where she had been lying at their entrance, and 
walked to the chair, in front of which Aunt Lida stood 
awaiting her surprise. 

“There! what do you think of it?” she asked, stepping 
to one side. 

“Why it’s Elva! O, you Little Darling, how glad I 
am to make your acquaintance!” She gave her a kiss of 
welcome, taking her at once into the fulness of her love. 

“And you are little Unie!” said Elva. “I feel as though 
I had known you for a long time, they have told me so 
much about you.” 

The heart of each maiden responded to the other, in the 
exuberance of their joy. The sympathetic chord of friend- 
ship was touched which vibrated through all their remain- 
ing lives. 

“How did you recognize me so quickly?” asked Elva, 
on being relieved of her wraps. 

“From Aunt Lida’s description in her letters, it was very 
easy;” responded Unie. 

“And from Harry’s sketches, also, I presume!” added 
Elva, with an intelligent smile; “which he said you might 
show me some day, with his permission.” 

The days at Rosevale passed swiftly away, and Elva 
settled into a little niche which seemed to have been wait- 
ing for her to fill. 

Herbert had consulted with the celebrated physician 
who had recommended electric treatment, and the wearing 
of a boot with supports. He assured her it would be all 
right with time and patience. The prescribed course was 
commenced immediately, and she was greatly benefited, 


OUT OF TUNE. 69 

though she could walk but very little without overtaxing 
the foot. 

Elva soon gained the affections of the household. The 
parents wished they might keep her for their own, she was 
so helpful, and restful to Unie. Indeed, the resemblance 
to her was so striking, that Elva might easily be taken for 
the twin-sister instead of Violet. 

Rosevale had received its name from the abundance of 
its roses, which blossomed profusely from early spring till 
the chilling frosts of autumn. It lay upon a slope reaching 
to the river’s edge, and commanded a fine view of the ad- 
jacent country. 

In pleasant weather the family spent a greater portion 
of the time out of doors; either upon the piazza, or in the 
grounds. Unie and Elva reclined in hammocks, swung 
from the trees, watching the boats pass, to and fro, on the 
river, while Elva told of the foreign land she had visited, 
or sang a soothing lullaby to the weary one. One dreamy 
October afternoon, they were amusing themselves in this 
way, when Elva broke forth into that sweet little song. 
Where do Fairies Dwell?” She had been describing a 
a journey which she had taken through Italy, while she 
was in Europe. Unie lay with closed eyes looking so weary 
during the recital that Elva thought a little music might 
prove a beneficial change. The low sweet tones of the 
silvery voice charmed the senses of the listening maiden 
into the realms of dreamland, as Elva supposed and she 
ceased singing. 

‘‘Go on, please, Elva, it is so sweet;” said Unie opening 
her drowsy eyes. 

Elva took up the beautiful strains again, and sang them 
over and over. The smile on Unie’s face faded to a look 
of sweet content. The weariness had passed away under 
the ministrations of the spirit which was reigning for awhile 
untrammeled by physical weakness. Song after song 
rolled from the singer’s throat; she sang with a heart full 
of love for her friend; she sang with thoughts of home; she 


70 


OUT OF TUNE. 


sang with thoughts of him who had been so kind during 
her mountain exile; she sang in harmony with her surround- 
ings; she sang in praise to the Maker of the universe; she 
sang unconscious of her angelic power; she sang because 
her very soul was filled with melody; she sang as' she had 
never sung before. 

An hour had nearly passed since the, beginning of the 
most exquisite measures, ever filled by mortal voice, when 
Elva in her faithful watch, noticing a slight change in her 
friend, again took up the Fairy song, and continued till 
Unie was wide awake. 

“There!’’ exclaimed Elva; “I have sung you to sleep. 
Little One, and sung you awake, and you must be tired 
from a surfeit of music.” 

“Thank you so much!” said Unie. “I have had a most 
wonderful fascinating dream. I dreamed I was roaming 
through fairy-land; I was well, and strong; I could run 
about as well as any or them, and never get tired; you were 
with me, and I called you, little sister; we gathered the 
beautiful flowers which blossomed abundantly throughout 
the realm; everywhere I strayed I heard the sweetest of 
music; it seemed to be borne on the summer breeze through 
the whispering trees, till all the land rang with melody; 
the fairies joined the mighty chorus, and I was trying to 
catch the strain, when I awoke, finding you were the fairy 
that was so enchanting, through my dream of ecstasy!” 

“Their abode is at Rosevale!” said Violet, who was 
seated on the veranda with her parents, and Aunt Lida, 
enjoying the beautiful songs of the gifted singer. “We 
know the fairies dwell in our midst.” 

“Truly, they are fairies,” coincided Mr. Morriton; and 
I wish we might keep them together.” 

“I think your wish may be gratified,” answered Aunt 
Lida with a sagacious look. 

Mr. Morriton thought she referred to an extended visit, 
having no knowledge of his son’s affection for the beautiful 

girl. 


CHAPTER XII. 

A Mountain Episode. 

The Fairies, as they were called from that time, resumed 
their pleasant intercourse. 

‘‘Unie,’’ said Elva, ^Vhen are you going to grant me 
the pleasure of viewing your sketches ? ’’ 

‘‘O, any time; now, if you would like. Aunt Lida,” 
she called, ‘Vill you please bring my sketches for Elva to 
look over?” 

The Aunt hastened to do her bidding, and soon returned 
with a well-filled portfolio. 

Elva was much interested in the drawings which showed 
a marvellous skill for an amateur. ‘‘They are wonderful! 
They are perfect! Many scenes are familiar to me, in the 
poems from which you have taken them, and they are ably 
executed! You have a noble gift, Unie!” 

“But what is this?” she continued, glancing at a book, 
larger than the others, bearing the title, “A Mountain 
Episode, in Living Characters, or Modern Mythology 
Illustrated. ” 

“O you Little Darling, don’t look at that one, please!” 
expostulated Unie. “It’s only some of Harry’s nonsense 
sent for my amusement.” 

“I know,” answered Elva; “and I wish to satisfy my 
curiosity in regard to them, as I am the original. Harry 
gave me permission, so you will not mind, if I am amused 
also.” She opened the book, which consisted of a series 
of pictures, with appropriate names, and descriptions 
attached. 

The first was one bearing the words, “Persephone seek- 
ing a new specimen;” it portrayed a young lady gathering 
flowers in the foreground. The features were those of 
Miss Darling. In the distance, a cow was quietly grazing 
on the rich herbage of the field. The background showed 

\ 


72 


OUT OF TUNE. 


a mountain range whose lofty peaks reached boldly to the 
clouds. The whole presented a pleasing pastoral scene. 

The second one, called Beastly Interruption,’’ was 
similar to the first. It represented the same scene with 
a change in the characters. The maiden, unconscious of 
the proximity of an inquiring neighbor, had gathered all 
the botanical specimens in her vicinity, and turned to seek 
a fresh supply in another direction, when she most unex- 
pectedly confronted the obtrusive beast. She was so 
terrified, her eyes seemed to protrude from their sockets; 
the awful beast had assumed the gigantic proportions of 
the animals of prehistoric times; while the imagination had 
enlarged the horns, till they equalled the mountain peaks in 
altitude. 

The third of the series was named, ‘‘An Atlanta of the 
Present Day;” it showed the same maiden with disheveled 
locks running at headlong speed from the supposed danger. 
It afforded a good illustration of the power of the imagina- 
tion. The one unoffending animal had become magnified 
into a large drove, which was intent upon devouring the 
trespasser of its domains. 

The fourth was headed, “A Dire Calamity;” it marked 
the heroine of the flight sitting in a despondent attitude upon 
the ground, where she had apparently fallen from an in- 
jured foot. At a distance, lay the slipper which had been 
lost in the mad race. The cow had returned to its feeding 
ground, and was quietly grazing unconscious of the havoc 
which her untimely appearance had caused. 

The fifth was humorously styled, “Off Her Trolley, or 
Impeded Locomotion.” The young lady was painfully 
striving, by creeping like an infant, to reach the shelter of 
a neighboring tree, whose sturdy branches extended an 
irresistible invitation. 

The sixth bore the suggestive words, “Watching and 
Waiting, or Patience on a Monument.” It showed Miss 
Darling seated upon a low supporting arm of an oak. To 
her, this tree was a fortress invulnerable to the attack of any 


OUT OF TUNE. 


73 


animal that had ever descended from the Ark. A melan- 
choly look rested upon her countenance, while she sat pa- 
tiently waiting in the leafy retreat for the departure of the 
dreaded creature. At the left, in the distance, a young 
man was seen approaching. 

“The Good Samaritan on the Wrong Side,’’ prefaced 
the seventh. It was a reproduction of the preceding 
one, with but one slight exception; the change in the 
position of the young man. He had reached the wall, 
when, preparatory to springing over it, he espied a young 
lady perched upon one of the lowest branches of the tree. 
His quick perception enabled him, at once, to comprehend 
the situation; that she had taken up her present quarters, 
as a necessity, after running from the cow. But why she 
should climb a tree instead of getting over the adjacent 
wall, he failed to understand. Thinking he might ^be of 
assistance in aiding her to descend from the lofty pedestal, 
he kindly offered his services. The way in which they were 
received was plainly shown by the look of indignation, and 
astonishment which overshadowed the little maiden’s 
face. 

The old familiar words “A Bird in the Hand is Worth 
Two in the Bush,” met the eye of the observer, as she 
turned to the eighth folio. It was the last of this most 
wonderful series. The mountain range had faded nearly 
away into a bluish gray blending with the distant atmosphere. 
A rough field of stone and stubble extended to the highway 
in the foreground. At the right, a glimpse of the hotel 
was caught. Harry was seen carrying Miss Darling care- 
fully across the barren field. That he was master of the 
situation was evident, from the smile of satisfaction which 
brightened his countenance, and conveyed the intelligence, 
that, like “Hobson’s choice,” it was the only way provided. 

“How beautiful they are!” exclaimed Elva, as she laid 
aside the collection. “Harry, by his originality has ren- 
dered them true to nature, and executed them with a mas- 
ter’s hand. These exquisite little gems of art, not only 


74 


OUT OF TUNE. 


show his brotherly affection, but also speak of careful 
watchfulness for your welfare, during his absence, and you 
must prize them very highly.’’ 

‘‘Yes,” replied Unie, “I count Harry’s ‘crayonettes,’ 
as he calls them, among my priceless treasures! But they 
will never seem as beautiful to me, since I find he has so 
caricatured my friend. You must pardon him for the 
liberty he has taken to make you the subject of these 
sketches.” 

“I do most truly and absolutely!” assented Elva. 
“Indeed, one could not bear malice against Harry, for his 
unequaled good humor enables him to ignore such petty 
traits. Besides, I have been granted that privilege, so 
seldom given to our sex of seeing myself, as others see me, 
and I am very grateful to the artist for his delineation of 
character. But, Unie, do you realize that you and Harry 
possess superior talents which might benefit the world ? ” 

“Why, Elva, what can you possibly mean?” asked 
Unie, in a bewildered manner. 

“Simply, that you both are wrapping this choice gift 
in a napkin, and hiding it from longing eyes!” answered 
Elva. “You might remove it from its place of conceal- 
ment, and allow others to share its beauties.” 

“I still fail to comprehend your meaning,” said Unie, 
more puzzled at her companion’s suggestions. 

“My dear Little One,” added Elva in explanation, “to 
relieve your anxious heart, and clear away all ambiguity 
I will state my meaning. I think you might illustrate 
various works for the publishers and render them more 
interesting, and valuable. Not that I would suggest 
anything that might lead to overwork, or in the smallest 
degree be detrimental to your frail constitution. I know 
you are accustomed to pass many moments in such occu- 
pation, for amusement; now, your sketches are so 
beautiful, I think a place would be given them among 
the works of art. As your modest retiring nature would 
cause you to shrink from all notoriety, you might become 


OUT OF TUNE. 


75 


an unknown benefactor to the world in general; that is, 
you might use the income for philanthropy. There are 
many struggling amateurs whom you might help to a better 
livelihood.” 

‘^Why, Elva, do you really mean that I could accom- 
plish anything for the good of others? I should be only 
too delighted to do so, had I the ability!” affirmed the 
wondering girl. 

‘^In answer, Unie dear, I would say, submit what you 
have already done, and see with what enthusiasm it is 
received by the public. You and Harry might combine 
your sketches, and call them ‘The Lotus Leaves.’ It would 
be a most appropriate name, as they would cause the be- 
holder to forget all care, and anxiety by their entrancing 
pictures; while the weary and afflicted ones might be lulled 
into a state of ecstasy, forgetful of all pain and sorrow.” 

“O, Elva, if I only could, how happy I should be!” 
exclaimed the incredulous maiden. “I could help many 
I know, who have none of this ‘world’s goods.’” 

“I have friends who are publishers, and I will write them 
about the matter, if you would like,” resumed Elva. “I 
am confident that your success will be unbounded; and, I 
am perfectly willing the ‘mountain episode’ should be in- 
cluded, as it would give zest to the whole collection. I 
would keep it a secret from all except Harry; tell him of 
your intention, and everything pertaining to it. I am con- 
vinced he not only will congratulate you upon the under- 
taking, but will aid materially as an equal contributor. 
His stay at the Adirondacks will enable him to furnish 
many sketches, while the beauties of California will be so 
attractive, that he cannot possibly resist the inclination 
to transfer them to paper, for your benefit.” 


" ■ CHAPTER XIII. 

Keeping a Secret. 

Hervey and Harry did not prolong their stay beyond 
a few weeks at the Adirondacks. Neither the fair halcyon 
days which almost uninterruptedly dawned upon them, 
while they afforded others hours of happiness, and enjoy- 
ment could wholly satisfy them; nor, the grandeur of the 
mountain scenery enhanced by the brilliancy of autumn 
with her varied tints, though appealing to the sense of the 
beautiful, was sufficient for their pleasure. An indefinable 
want intruded itself, which could not be banished, either 
by time or scene. A little cloud had arisen upon the horizon 
which was gradually overspreading their fair skies with 
shades of disappointment. 

The shadows rested more darkly upon Hervey’s path, 
than on Harry’s. Harry, with his brusque manner formed 
the center of many attractive gatherings, from which Her- 
vey’s reticence debarred him. Harry was eagerly sought 
by the newly-made friends and acquaintances, and always 
contributed to their entertainment by his brilliant conversa- 
tion, and sparkling wit. Very soon after his arrival, no 
set was considered complete without his presence. The 
younger brother was the hero of the passing hour, while 
the elder was held somewhat in awe, from his natural re- 
serve. 

One evening, the boys sat in their room reading letters 
from home. Hervey had finished one from the Doctor, 
having communicated several items of interest to Harry. 
The second letter absorbed him so greatly that all inter- 
course was suspended; it was an epistle from Miss Darling, 
and it wafted him from the present surroundings to the happy 
days at the Mountains. Beautiful visions with roseate 
hues of the future were delighting the yearning heart, when 
Harrv interrupted, and the glowing fancies shared the fate 
of one’s wondrous air-castles. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


77 


“Just listen to this, will you, Hervey?’’ said Harry. 
Little Unie is growing ambitious, and wants to enter this 
great world of competition! What next, I wonder!” 

“What do you mean?” asked Hervey, aroused from his 
state of oblivion. “I think you must have made some 
mistake.” 

Harry read from Unie^s letter the desire concerning the 
sketches, and the wish that he would assist her, that they 
might accomplish some good for others, by helping them 
in their struggles. “Now, do you credit my statement, 
and see that I am not dreaming ? ” he asked. 

“Yes,” responded Hervey, “though I fail to compre- 
hend what could possibly have suggested such an under- 
taking to timid little Unie.” 

“Whew!” ejaculated Harry. “I am requested to keep 
this a profound secret. Unie says Elva will manage every- 
thing for her, if I approve. She is becoming quite inter- 
ested in the anticipation of pleasing those who are unable 
to view the scenes. She also states that the ‘ Lotus Leaves ’ 
will be made up of folios; the sketch on one side with a 
description on the opposite page, furnished by Elva. It 
seems they are both eager to commence the new enterprise, 
and only await my sanction. I will send word by return 
mail that they are welcome to my contributions, if they can 
make any possible use of them; and I will help all I am 
able during our travels.” 

“How strange!” remarked Hervey, “that those two 
little ones should propose such an undertaking! It will 
be very valuable, if the material used is good! I do not 
know much of the ability of either sister or brother!” 

“Never fear, old chap, anything detrimental to Unless 
sketches ! They are simply immense ! And I am glad she is 
not going to hide them ^ under a bushel,^ any longer. As for 
mine, the least said about them the better; they have been 
done only for Unie’s benefit, and if she thinks them good 
for anything she’s welcome. But how about the secret?” 
asked Harry. “Don’t you think we shall be able to keep 


78 


OUT OF TUNE. 


it ? I will do the way the girls do when they have one they 
wish to keep. For fear they might forget the important 
fact they ask their nearest friend to help them keep it! 
So please keep silent!’’ 

‘^O, Harry, don’t be sarcastic!” saidHervey. “We will 
congratulate the girls upon their noble work, and do all 
we can to aid them by contributions. It will afford me great 
pleasure to write descriptions of all the sketches which you 
may make.” 

“All right!” acquiesced Harry. I shall hold you to your 
promise, and we will surprise them by our efforts. I am 
so glad for Unie, that she has this project in hand, as it will 
contribute so much to her happiness. She has always had 
such great aspirations to do good to others, that I think 
her zeal in this work will be crowned with success. Why 
I am always trying to buoy her up, myself, by telling her 
the vast amount of good she does me.” 

“You speak truly, my brother, her influence is sweet to 
us all,” assured Hervey. “What a veritable little sunbeam 
Miss Darling is ; she spreads her cheering rays over all within 
her range, and brightens their life with the comforting as- 
surance that they are helping others. The best panacea 
ever given a weary heart, is to aid one more afflicted, and 
lose its own sorrow while ministering unto another. ” 

“That’s true!” assented Harry; “I fully indorse that 
sentiment every time!” And, fearing that his brother 
might refer to the sacrifice he had made by sharing his 
travels, he turned the conversation into another channel, 
by asking with great earnestness, “Do you know why this 
charming retreat is not so attractive to us, as the Franconia 
Notch?” 

Before Hervey could frame a suitable response, he an- 
swered his own query. “It is the absence of the ^Moun- 
tain Maid.’ You see her presence cast a glamour over the 
whole scene, making everything beautiful, whether nature 
smiled or frowned. It is her absence that blinds us to all 
the beauties of this region. Surely the fates have been 


OUT OF TUNE. 


79 

propitious in your case, and you should profit from their 
kindness.’’ 

‘‘What do you mean?” asked Hervey, aroused from 
the alluring meditative mood, into which Harry’s words had 
carried him. 

“That you, like Mohammed, must go to the mountain!” 
Seeing the puzzled look still resting upon his brother’s 
face, he added by way of explanation, “I discovered the 
mountain, and led you to it; you gazed enraptured upon 
its wondrous beauty; yet, strange to relate, you departed 
with an unsatisfied heart. ‘A word to the wise is suffi- 
cient!” 

Hervey smiled at the ingeniousness of the simile, and 
fully understood its application. “Thank you,” he cor- 
dially replied, and turned the conversation into another 
channel, fearing that such an inquisitor might suggest 
some impropriety from which he would be compelled to 
shrink. “I am greatly interested in the advent of ‘Lotus 
Leaves,’ and think that even I may be able to add a mite. 
I remember a charming little nook where I rested a few 
days ago; it opened upon a scene so charming that its 
beauty is still impressed upon me, and I wish we might 
add it to the collection.” 

“All right, my boy, you shall have your heart’s desire!” 
he answered ambiguously, with twinkling eyes, which 
plainly showed that he saw through the flimsy subterfuge. 
He concluded he would let the matter drop, as his arrow 
had found the mark at which he had aimed. “I don’t 
think a little description will interfere with your improve- 
ment; it will be a blessing during your restriction, in prov- 
ing that you are of some assistance, which is so comforting 
to us poor mortals, that we cannot content ourselves with- 
out it.” 

On visiting the scene the following day, Harry fbund that 
Hervey’s description had not been exaggerated. “My 
little Unie will think this a glimpse of fairy-land!” he ex- 
claimed, as he contemplated the prospect. “You can 
describe with pen while I describe with paint.” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


So 


Both seated themselves and began their labors. Harry 
quickly sketched the principal points in the landscape, 
and brought them into a fine picture by means of water- 
colors. 

Hervey, surprised at the rapidity with which he executed 
so correct a picture, asked, ‘‘How do you perform such 
excellent work when you are only an amateur? I cannot 
understand itF’ 

“O, it’s easy enough! I just draw round what I see, and 
then put in a few lights and shades. You see that sheet of 
water, yonder, touches the adjoining land in a curve, don’t 
you ? So I draw that, and just touch it up a little, here and 
there, and the first thing I know, I have a representation 
of nature. Not very good. I’ll admit, but passable, as 
some recognize it, or say they do, which is the same. Then 
it is easy for me, as I always see a picture in everything.” 

“My dear brother, this is entirely inexplicable to me; 
you might just as well give a little child who has learned 
his alphabet, and can frame a few words, the dictionary, 
and require you to write him an essay, by telling him he 
will find all the words which he requires in that book, as 
try to make me understand your adjustment of lights and 
shades, and the prospective! It is beyond me.” 

The new occupation dispelled the shadows which de- 
pressed them, and engaged the remaining hours of their 
sojourn. A new impetus thrilled their hearts and many 
contributions were sent from California, for the “Lotus 
Leaves,” which encouraged the noble girls in their great 
work. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


Lotus Leaves.’’ 

The early part of November found the Morritons settled 
in their city home. Elva accompanied them, at their 
earnest solicitation. The grandeur of the great mansion, 
with its spacious court was somewhat appalling at first. 
The late season still smiled upon the park; flowers, with 
the rich unrivaled tints of autumn bloomed in stately splen- 
dor; and, even roses shed their fragrance upon the air. 

“Unie, it seems as though I was in a dream, visiting 
another world, filled with all the wealth of beauty and art!” 
remarked Elva, one dreamy Indian summer’s day, as both 
were seated in Unie’s bower. “I had thought Roselands 
the most beautiful place I had ever beheld, but this mag- 
nificence is beyond comparison. There is more of nature 
there, while here, both nature and art are combined. How 
beautiful it all is! And how wonderful! I almost shrink 
from speaking, lest these scenes of glory should depart!” 

am pleased that you enjoy is so much, as I am very 
happy here, and wish you to be also,” replied Unie. 

‘‘I have been thinking,” continued Elva, as she inhaled 
the perfume of a rose which had crept into the bower, above 
the seat, if this mansion made by man is so beautiful, what 
of the mansions above, ‘not made by hands’ in ‘Our 
Father’s home!’” 

“O, Elva, this is but dross!” Unie immediately answered. 
There can be no comparison between the two; it is beyond 
our comprehension. “Do you not remember that it is 
written, ‘Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have 
entered in to the heart of man, the things which God hath 
prepared for them that love him? ” 

“True, but this seems too much like Paradise, to be of 
earth!” asserted Elva. “I am inexpressibly delighted in 
being permitted to revel amid such glowing realms. Out 


82 


OUT OF TUNE. 


of all your abundance, you can comfort many who are 
not so favored, as your compassionate heart would lead. 
New zeal for the ^ Lotus Leaves’ inspires me, as I view 
all the possibilities within your reach, enhanced by these 
pleasant surroundings.” 

Elva was given a room near Unie, in order that they 
might easily communicate. Unie offered the full liberty 
of her charming and attractive parlor, which was gratefully 
accepted. The sprained ankle was slowly being restored 
to its normal condition ; but so slowly was the improvement 
marked, that it was scarcely noticeable by the oft-discour- 
aged maiden. 

Elva made arrangements with the publishers who were 
friends of her family, by asking one of them to call upon 
her at the Morritons’. He complied with her request, and 
she laid the plan before him. He heartily commended the 
enterprise, and predicted great success, when is was fairly 
launched forth upon its mission. 

“It is really of great merit!” he said. “Just what is 
needed in the world of art. We have nothing of the kind; 
true, we have folios of exhibitions, and such like, which 
have occurred, but not anything like this. We will do our 
utmost to insure the ‘Lotus Leaves’ a place among the 
treasures of art.” 

Hervey and Harry had sent words of commendation, and 
acquiescence in the proposed work. “I can send all the 
sketches you want, till you weary of them,” wrote the 
energetic Harry. “Hervey is helping me keep the secret, 
so don’t be alarmed that I shall lose it. Indeed, the old 
chap is as delighted as I am about it all, and proposes to 
write a description of everything I send; you see that re- 
lieves me of the worst part, and gives me more freedom to 
supply your needs. I had much rather sketch a place, 
than write about it, so you perceive we both are suited.” 

The boys had reached the golden land upon the Pacific, 
and were delighted with its beauties and wonders. Both 
felt the exhilarating power of its mild breezes. They 


OUT OF TUNE. 83 

deemed it the most beautiful place which they had seen, 
nature was so diversified. 

Hervey, after grave reflection, presented the matter over 
which his mind had so long brooded, to Elva’s father, and 
awaited its reception before communicating his wishes to 
the daughter. 

In reply, Mr. Darling wrote, “I will coincide in my 
daughter's choice; as I am fully convinced that her judg- 
ment would not allow her to select one who was in any way 
unworthy of her. Although you are a stranger to us, ex- 
cept from a slight knowledge gained from Elva^s letters, 
we extend to you our heartfelt congratulations, should her 
answer be favorable.’’ 

Thus encouraged, Hervey hesitated no longer, and at 
once presented his cause to the ‘Mountain Maid.’ The 
answer received was satisfactory, filling his heart with such 
unbounded joy, that he felt he must tell Harry immediately 
of his good fortune. “I have a surprise in store for you;” 
he said, as he finished his letter. 

“O, no, you haven’t 1 ” his brother remarked. “None 
so blind as those who won’t see!’ But, ‘better late than 
never!’ And, old boy, you have my best wishes, and all 
that keeps them company, for your welfare!” he cried, 
extending both hands in congratulation. “Though lam 
a little surprised that you were so stupid; you need some 
one to guard you, and I will willingly relinquish in favor 
of the ‘Little Darling!’” 

Both laughed, and Hervey added that no plans had been 
arranged for the future. 

“Be careful and not let too much happiness slip through 
your fingers!” counseled Harry, with a warning look. 

Hervey informed his parents of his brilliant prospects, 
and commended Elva to their loving care and protection. 
They were delighted at their son’s choice, and expressed 
their joy to the little maid, that she was to be a daughter 
of the house. “Just what I have desired, ever since I 
have known her!” remarked the delighted father while the 
mother acquiesced. 


84 


OUT OF TUNE. 


“Just what I expected!’’ exclaimed Aunt Lida. “I 
am not the least surprised, and for once, things have not 
gone contrary!” she added, with her astute wisdom. 

The days at Morriton Mansion were very happy. Elva 
already seemed like one of their own; she entered heartily 
into all their interests. She gave two hours in the morning 
to the practise of music, with Violet. Unie was allowed 
the pleasure of listening to the thrilling strains, while resting 
enraptured in a comfortable easy-chair. 

Violet was busy preparing for a grand musicale which 
should eclipse all previous endeavors, from the introduction 
of Elva as the principal artist. 

Elva spent the greater portion of the day with Unie, in 
her pleasant parlor; here they both were free from re- 
straint, and could work uninterruptedly. She would not 
allow Unie to weary herself at any time; and, entreated 
her to rest upon the couch and describe the places, of the 
selected drawings. Unie’s descriptive powers were ex- 
cellent and Elva gathered the items of interest necessary 
for the publication from her dictation. 

It was decided to present the public only fifty of the many 
etchings at first. A most careful selection was made, 
with the “Mountain Episode” included. Harry’s descrip- 
tions were used with a few slight additions. Only one 
new sketch was added, by Unie; it was called “ Dreamland,” 
it represented the beauties of Roselands, when Elva sang 
Unie into the realms of fairy-land. 

The publishers wished to bring the work out, about the 
first of December, in season for Christmas. They issued 
notices of commendation, preparatory to its advent, so that 
many were eager for its appearance. They were successful 
in their labors. The “Lotus Leaves” were sent forth 
upon the world for its solace. The young maidens awaited 
with great anxiety the reception. After all, it was running 
a great risk to bring the work of an unknown artist before 
the world, and expect its approval. 

A copy was sent to the principal publishers throughout 


OUT OF TUNE. 


8S 


the country, immediately upon its publication, and their 
flattering comments, alone, would have created a ready 
sale for the work, even had it been undeserving. 

Elva and Unie watched its advent with a maternal care, 
greatly pleased at its unbounded success. A number of 
copies were finished most exquisitely in velvet, with the 
title ‘‘Lotus Leaves’’ in gold. One of these was sent each 
of the boys who had aided so materially by contributions 
from the “golden land.” 

Christmas dawned bright and clear, flooding the earth 
with “peace and glad tidings.” After partaking of break- 
fast, the family withdrew to the morning-room, where the 
gifts to all were deposited. Each was remembered with 
beautiful souvenirs. Elva was the recipient of mementoes 
from all. Even Harry had sent a little gift expressive of 
his good humor. It was a golden cow, for a scarf-pin; a 
card accompanied it, bearing these words: “For my new 
sister;” also a couplet, “When this you see, Remember me.” 

Amid the smiles of merriment, Elva promised obedience 
to the request, and said, “I shall wear it as an amulet in the 
future, against the attacks of the horned creatures, when- 
ever I invade their domains.” 

Father and mother had received a box, bearing a card 
with these words, “With the best wishes of Elva and Unie. 
Aunt Lida, Doctor Herbert, and Violet found among their 
presents a similar one. “I think you girls must have found 
something which you knew we all should like, so have laid 
in a wholesome supply,” exclaimed Violet, as she untied 
her parcel. 

“Lotus Leaves!” she continued, reading the title, as she 
lifted the book from its resting place. “What an exquisite 
little gem! ” she said, while turning its pages. 

“Lotus Leaves!” repeated the father; “that’s the name 
of a collection of sketches which some unknown artist has 
ventured to float upon the sea of time. I was reading a 
short time since a most commendable article in their favor, 
and meant to have procured them for you, Unie, dear, as 


86 


OUT OF TUNE. 


a Christmas present; but, it escaped my memory, and you 
have forestalled me. How did you get hold of them?^^ 
he inquired turning to Unie. 

‘‘From the publishers, through the assistance of Elva;’^ 
answered Unie, while an amusing look of intelligence 
flashed upon their countenances. 

The recipients of the folios were slowly turning their 
leaves, and praising the beautiful scenes which were so 
accurately portrayed, when Violet exclaimed, “These views 
are strangely familiar to me! I have seen them somewhere, 
I know! Why, here is that ‘Mountain Episode’ of Har- 
ry’s!” and she looked inquiringly at Elva, who only smiled. 

“What is this?” asked the astonished father as he turned 
to the sketch of “ Dreamland.” “This is Roselands with all 
its beauty! Look, mother! ” he cried; “there is the Hudson 
gliding on its way to the sea, here, at the right; and the 
park with its fine old trees, and roses everywhere. I verily 
believe that is Unie herself in the hammock, as she lay that 
day when Elva sang about the fairies. Yes, it is! and there 
are the fairies themselves filling every nook, with praise, 
in unison with the birds. Why, Elva, do you possess this 
wonderful gift of art, in addition to your other talents? 
Is this your work?” he asked, turning to Elva with great 
astonishment. 

“O, no! I am not so gifted!” she immediately replied. 
“I have not the ability to delineate such beautiful pictures; 
I am only able to assist in placing them in their proper 
place,” she added, giving a sagacious look to Unie. 

Silence followed this assertion; but the mother’s heart had 
discerned what was hidden from the others. She recog- 
nized, from the first, Unie’s handiwork, and the great joy 
of the discovery alone kept her silent. Rising from her 
chair she went to Unie, and imprinted a loving kiss upon her 
brow, saying, “I thank you, my precious daughter, for this 
splendid gift. It is of inestimable value to us, as it is the 
work of your own hands. And, you, also, my dear Elva, 
must receive our thanks,” she said, turning to kiss her. 


OUT OF TUNE. 87 

Without your assistance, this choice book would never have 
been seen.’’ 

Great surprise was depicted upon the faces of the family; 
each one congratulated the girls upon the success of the 
enterprise. 

“You must have invoked all the muses to your aid, to 
have been so favored!” said Violet. 

“To think we had such a genius in our midst and never 
dreamed of her existence!” remarked Doctor Herbert. 

“Well, Unie, this will make you rise from obscurity to 
fame!” said the delighted father; “besides yielding you 
a fair income, if I am any judge of such things!” 

“O, no, papa! I am not seeking fame, only trying to 
help the needy ones who have not been so blest as I have 
been. I do not care to be known, I am simply a friend, 
and wish that I may remain so,” said Unie. 

“Just as you wish, little one! though some may ask me 
if I know the author of ‘Lotus Leaves;’ while others may 
afflict you with letters of thanks, and seek your name! So 
much for being famous!” added the father. 

Aunt Lida quietly remarked “‘Truth is stranger than 
fiction;’” and “our blessings are always within our reach, 
if we will only stretch out and grasp them!” 

The “Lotus Leaves” received an enthusiastic welcome 
from the public, wherever they appeared. The publishers 
found that several editions were necessary to meet the large 
demands. Much curiosity was expressed at their ap- 
pearance, and numerous letters were received concerning 
their authorship. 


CHAPTER XV. 


‘‘Who is She?’’ 

Everything that was bright and beautiful surrounded 
the pathway of Violet Morriton. Her outward life was 
encircled with the best and the fairest which the world 
could bestow. Wealth lavishly supplied every wish, as 
soon as expressed; yet, it gave neither satisfaction nor 
happiness even in the smallest degree. Nothing permanent 
could be found, though the zealous maiden searched dili- 
gently for something beyond her possession; but, it ever 
eluded her grasp, like the evanescent spirit of a dream. 
The accomplishment of one desire only paved the way for 
its successor. Her soul was ready to cry out with the 
Preacher, “Vanity, vanity, all is vanity!” but she strove 
to stifle its cries by a deeper plunge into the pleasures of 
life. The more difficult any project appeared, the more 
determined sh« became upon its consummation. 

On the removal of the family to New York, Violet had 
at once entered the most select circles of fashionable society. 
She become the center of attraction, and many receptions 
were given in her favor. Her excellent education admitted 
her to the most exclusive literary set; while her musical 
abilities which had been trained most assiduously to the 
highest order, gained, not only a wide-spread reputation, 
but an enthusiastic appreciation. She was a valuable 
acquisition to the world of literature and art. 

All Violet’s energies, since her return, were centered upon 
the coming musicale. It had been decided to hold it during 
the first week of the New Year. The eventful time had 
arrived, and the doors of the mansion were thrown open 
to the favored ones. Violet, flushed with the excitement 
of the hour, exclaimed, “ O, Elva, if you only will do as 
much for me, as you did for Unie, we will compete with the 
grand old masters!” 


OUT OF TUNE. 89 

Elva promised the best of her ability and Violet’s fears 
were temporarily allayed. 

Several new names appeared upon the programme, 
making the guests expectant of a rich treat. They had 
heard the finest artists whom Violet had presented, and had 
no misgivings as everything which she did was not only 
admired but imitated. 

Professor Stedman rendered selections from Wagner, 
Mozart and Schubert so finely that the audience were 
filled with delight. 

Miss Louise Barker, a classmate of Violet’s and a gradu- 
ate from the school of oratory, charmed all with her readings. 
She was an inimitable impersonator, and with a few slight 
changes represented the public men of the day. 

Amid the burst of applause which followed a solo given 
by a Mr. Crane, an excellent baritone, Elva seated herself 
at the piano. A hush fell over the assembly as she fondly 
stroked the keys. She carried her listeners with her; be- 
ginning with a sweet pastoral evening choral, with chirps 
of insects, and birds calling to their mates, with the dis- 
tant taps sounding the hour of rest; then followed an 
adagio, with its slow undulating measures, almost lulling 
one to rest; gradually it broke into an allegretto; nature 
awoke from her repose and flooded the earth with praise. 
So entranced were they at its close, that a moment of silence 
followed; than a wave of praise swept through the grand 
saloon, such as Violet had never before witnessed. 

It had been decided that no encores could be given, from 
the length of the programme; but an exception was made 
to satisfy the company. Elva cheerfully gave a second 
selection; and, had she yielded to their desires, no other 
numbers would have appeared. 

Violet and Elva executed a duet upon the organ and 
piano increasing the pleasure of the company; they re- 
frained from an encore, seeing that both would appear 
later on in the same order. 

The remaining numbers were given, and rapturously 


90 


OUT OF TUNE. 


applauded, till the finale was reached, solo, by Miss 
Darling, with violin obligato, by Dr. Herbert Morriton. 
A delightful suspense filled the hearts of all assembled, as 
they wondered what new pleasure was in store for them. 
A flutter of incredulity ran through their minds, that noth- 
ing could excel that which had preceded. The artists, 
with Violet as accompanist gathered at the piano, and took 
up the music of the opera “Lohengrin.’’ The audience 
could hardly restrain themselves till the end was reached, 
interrupting several times with applause. Never, had 
they heard such a glorious rendering ; such heavenly strains. 
Elva’s voice was at its best; clear, sweet, and pure as a 
silver bell. The Doctor was equal to De Seve, as he ten- 
derly drew the bow across the vibrating instrument; while 
Violet seemed gifted with the power of Orpheus to free the 
imprisoned music of the spheres. An overwhelming burst 
of applause and admiration filled the spacious mansion; 
gratifying the servants who sat spellbound in their cozy 
parlor, listening to the music. 

When the applause had subsided, Violet introduced 
Miss Darling, the “musical wonder” to her guests. 

“Who is she?” was the question which rose in their 
hearts, and would have found utterance had not etiquette 
forbidden. 

Lu Barker, however, could not restrain her curiosity, 
and inquired of Violet at the first opportunity. “Who is 
she? Where did you find her? How awfully nice of you 
to give us such a nightingale! Who is she, anyway?” 
she asked breathlessly. “I am dying to know all about 
her!” 

“That your death may not be laid to my neglect, I will 
try to answer your questions so that society may not be 
deprived of your valuable services,” answered Violet, amus- 
ingly. “Miss Darling is a native of the ‘Old Bay State,’ 
from among the Berkshire Hills, I believe; she received 
her musical education in Germany. Dear Lu, I cannot 
further enlighten you concerning her antecedents, as I 
did not find her. She is Unie’s friend.” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


91 


Undaunted at the failure of her inquiries, she again ex- 
tended them, on meeting Unie. ‘^01 you dear little one, 
how are you this evening? You must be improving, I 
know, or you would not be present at Vi’s musicalel” she 
continued without noticing that she allowed no chance for 
an answer. ‘^How awfully nice it was! How awfully 
kind of you to let us hear your Swedish Nightingale 1 Where 
did you find her? And, who is she?” 

Unie looked at Louise with surprise till it dawned upon 
her that she was referring to Elva. ^^She is the dearest 
friend that I possess on earth; I am very fond of her, and 
look upon her as a sister. I have known her only a few 
short months, and she had made life sweeter to me ever 
since. But I did not find her; Aunt Lida brought her to 
me,” she said, wonderingly. 

by the way!” exclaimed Louise in departing, ^‘have 
you seen the new work of art, called ‘Lotus Leaves,’ which 
has taken the world by storm?” 

“Yes! I have a copy!” answered Unie, fearful that the 
penetrating Louise might gain a knowledge of its author- 
ship. 

“Of course you would have!” she exclaimed, “and you 
must appreciate it, as you are an amateur yourself! It’s 
awfully sweet, isn’t it? I am dying to learn who the author 
is, and if I ascertain I will inform you; so, au revoir, for 
the present.” She flitted away thinking the blush spread- 
ing over Unie’s countenance, which her query had caused, 
was the result of the evening’s excitement. 

She would, without doubt have been more surprised 
could she have known that a solution of all she wished 
was within her power; in fact, so near that the least touch 
might disclose its hiding place! An undeniable fact that 
humanity does not possess sufficient intuition to unravel 
the unseen! 

This second disappointment only served to incite Louise 
to a greater determination to ascertain, if possible, where 
the Morritons found such a treasure, and who she was. 
She shrank, however, from catechising Aunt Lida, she was 


92 


OUT OF TUNE. 


so awfully funny in her estimation, “but if an opportunity 
presents itself, I will avail myself of it,’’ she thought. 

The convenient “opportunity” did not present itself, 
for some time. A most recherche lunch with dainties from 
other climes had been served in the elegant dining-room, 
and Uouise began to doubt her ability of success in the quest. 
She watched Elva, to see if she could detect any awkward- 
ness, or breach of etiquette; but found her well-bred, and 
no stranger to the elite. It flashed upon her that if she 
waited she would certainly find out. 

“Are you not enjoying yourself, my dear?” asked Aunt 
Lida, seeing the thoughtful expression which momentarily 
shaded Louise’s brow. 

“O, yes. Aunt Lida!” she replied immediately break- 
ing from her light reverie. “I’m having an awfully nice 
time!” Seeing that an opportune time had arrived, she 
returned to the all-absorbing subject. “What an awfully 
sweet little body Miss Darling is!” she exclaimed. “How 
awfully delighted you must be to have her with you! Do 
you know her people?” 

Aunt Lida saw at once through the ruse of praise adopted 
by Louise, that she might gain information, and answered 
accordingly. “I attended the same seminary as her aunt, 
some time ago ; but of late years, we have somewhat drifted 
apart.” 

Louise, gratified at the result of her investigation, placed 
Elva as one of their set. Feeling sure of a ready response 
on all important points, she continued. “Where did you 
find Miss Darling, Auntie? Unie tells me, you made the 
discovery, but did not state how, or where. ” 

“I found her at the White Mountains, suffering from a 
sprained ankle. She was somewhat lonely, as her party 
were obliged to leave her, and continue their travels. Ac- 
cordingly, I took compassion upon her, and gave a prescrip- 
tion for the afflicted member,” said Aunt Lida, deliberately. 

“But who is she?” ejaculated Louise, not caring for the 
details which had been so freely furnished. “So strange 
I never heard of her before!” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


93 


‘‘She is Hervey^s promised wife; and we all are nearly, 
if not quite, as much interested in her as he is,^’ quietly 
explained Aunt Lida. 

For once, Louise Barker had nothing to say, and was at 
an end in her search for information. Utter astonishment 
nearly deprived her of her senses. She crushed a feeling 
in the heart, of which she had previously been unconscious. 
For a moment, she doubted the accuracy of her own ears. 
Reason, however, assured her that the announcement 
coming from a near relative of the family, must be authentic. 
She quickly recalled the wandering senses to their wonted 
energies, and smilingly said, “How awfully nice! Allow 
me to extend my congratulations!^’ 

Aunt Lida knew the characteristics of her companion, 
and felt assured that she would not search any deeper into 
the genealogy of the Darlings, from the startling intelli- 
gence which she had communicated. She was satisfied 
that Louise would impart the “latest,” with great zest, 
to her receptive hearers, and was secretly amused to find 
how quickly she left her company for that purpose. 

Louise Barker was one of the many types of the young 
ladies of the present time; bright, sparkling, social and 
interesting; the life of the set in which she moved. She 
was neither a gossip-dealer, a tattler, or a scandal bulletin. 
Well-informed upon current events from many sources, she 
simply communicated the knowledge, without a thought of 
malice. As a butterfly flitting from flower to flower, gath- 
ering and distributing sweets, so she flitted among her 
friends scattering the pearly drops of love, joy, and happi- 
ness. Praise was more readily given than censure, while 
she always found pity even for the faults of others. 

Before the company had bidden the Morritons good- 
night, Louise had communicated the important item of 
news, to each one, that Miss Darling was the fiancee of the 
eldest son, Hervey Morriton. Thus the question, “Who is 
she?” was most unexpectedly and satisfactorily answered; 
and the mystery solved regarding her position. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


‘‘The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men 

GANG AFT AGLEY.” 

The season, with all its social attractions had ended. 
It had been a very enjoyable one to Violet Morriton, from 
the brilliancy of the many engagements which still illumined 
the passing days. The memory of the musicale yet lingered 
with its marvellous success. The pleasures of past and pres- 
ent were being laid aside under a new plan of happiness, 
for the coming summer. The sun of anticipation had 
risen in dazzling splendor upon the horizon of her life; 
its genial rays permeated the pulses, and deepened the flush 
upon the cheek. Earth held, for the time being, no fairer 
prospect than the pleasure of viewing the old world, with 
her dearest friend, Mary Arthurs. Everything which human 
forethought could devise was already arranged, and it 
seemed as though the realization would far exceed the 
brightest hopes, when Mrs. Arthurs’ letter arrived throw- 
ing Violet into a state of ebullition against the paramount 
claims of duty. 

Calmed by philosophical reasoning, Violet, without a 
trace of agitation resting upon her countenance, entered 
the morning room, where Mr. and Mrs. Morriton were 
engaged with letters from the boys. “I’m proving the 
verity of that old Scotch saying, 

‘The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men 
Gang aft a-gley,” 
she exclaimed. 

“What, now! Vi, dear?” asked the father, knowing 
that his daughter’s reasonings came from an unexpected 
source. 

“O, nothing! only our European trip is not to be thought 
of, as Mary cannot possibly break the terrible chain which 
binds her so closely to duties! You see by her letter, what 


OUT OF TUNE. 


95 

a barricade has been raised against it/’ she continued as 
she read its contents to the wondering parents. 

There!” cried Violet, at the close of the reading, ‘‘don’t 
you think this fully proves the truth of that old assertion ? 

I see no other way, but an utter abandonment of the whole 
scheme!” 

“Just as you please!” added Mr. Morriton. “We will 
have a pleasure trip after the wedding; but that reminds 
me, you need not be deprived of your outing after all. You 
could make one of the bridal party. I know Hervey and 
Elva would be delighted to have you with them, as they 
view the wonders of the Orient.” 

“O, no, I thank you, papa!” quickly retorted Violet. 
“You know ‘Two is company,’ and so forth; please excuse 
me from forming the third of a bridal party ! I can arrange 
something while at Roselands, even if I am obliged to run 
to Saratoga, to see Mary in her new occupation, as nurse.” 

But the mother knew that under this vein of apparent 
levity, a restless heart was wildly throbbing against its 
disappointment. Wishing that she might help its struggles, 
she quietly remarked, “I do not see, Violet, why you should 
renounce the intended pleasure! Why not avail yourself 
of Mary’s proposition, and invite Beatrice Moreland to 
travel with you ? ” 

“Beatrice Moreland!” repeated Violet; “you know, 
mamma, how I shrank from her flattery and patronage, as 
a child, and how can she be endurable now, when the same 
ingredients make up her life!” 

“But, my dear, time may have healed those glaring 
defects,” the mother continued. “Mingling with the best 
society may have proved advantageous to her and imparted 
a knowledge not otherwise obtained.” 

“I have no faith in the change!” said the unconvinced 
daughter. “Old Father Time would have had the greatest 
contract which he ever yet undertook, to obliterate the 
defects of Beatrice Moreland’s character. I should even 
be so incredulous at any improvement that I should think 


96 


OUT OF TUNE. 


it only an acquired gloss, which might wear off at any time, 
from the least friction. Deliver me, please, from the 
buzzing of the ‘ Busy Bee! ’ If the winged family were only 
endowed with intellect, they might well be proud of their 
namesake! for a more industrious Bee never existed; she 
reigns as Queen in the great universal hive!’’ 

Silence followed this violent outburst; its unveiled sar- 
casm clearly revealed to the parents the position which 
Mrs. Moreland held in their daughter’s estimation. They 
had nothing further to suggest; and, as every suggestion 
had failed to meet Violet’s approval, she dropped the mat- 
ter, by leaving their presence; entering the music-room 
she seated herself at the piano, and concealed, very effec- 
tually, her disappointment under the most brilliant fan- 
tasies. 

On and on, the beautiful melodies floated through the 
morning hours to mid-day, and still Violet continued the 
fascinating diversion, unmindful of all. Nothing animate or 
inanimate, neither time nor scene had sufficient power 
to arrest her attention. The spiritual, for the time, trans- 
cended the physical, and held undivided sway. It quietly 
accomplished its mission of lulling the struggling heart 
into submission, by its soothing power. 

It was a novel experience to the entranced maiden; she 
found it intensely interesting, as being something out of 
the ordinary. Hitherto, in her moods of abstraction, the 
spirit of unrest had reigned supreme, crushing out the noble 
sentiments, by forcing the rebellious heart into an apathetic 
resignation. But, now, a subtle power was filling its ave- 
nues, and softly smoothing every harsh and discordant 
note. In some strange, sweet inexplicable way, she was 
receiving consolation, and found it exceedingly gratifying. 
It was as though a long, weary search had ended, and a 
coveted realm had been found. Orpheus had yielded 
to the kindred aspirant, and opened his rich treasury of 
harmonies. She had lost consciousness of individuality, 
for the first time, and was willing to remain in the 


OUT^OF^TUNE. 97 

acquiescent state, when she became aware of another's 
presence, and turned to find her sister. 

‘^Why, Unie!’^ she exclaimed, ‘^when did you come? 
You must have crept in, like a little mouse, to leave me 
unaware of your presence.” Even then, while seeking an 
answer to her question, the fingers kept up a running ac- 
companiment as if impelled by a hidden force. 

^‘1 came in very stealthily, nearly two hours ago,” 
answered Unie. ‘‘We missed you from lunch, but thought 
best not to interrupt, as you were playing so beautifully. 
What music is it, Vi ? I think I never heard anything like 
it before. I do hope, dear, I have not disturbed you.” 

“O, no; not in the least!” answered Violet, in explana- 
tion. “I was only improvising a little to pass away the 
time. I had no idea -of the hours, which you tell me have 
passed away since I came here. I only know, and realize 
that I have played myself into a happy frame of mind, 
so the day has not been wholly wasted. ” 

“But, Vi, dear, what rare old collection have you dis- 
covered? Or, is it something which Elva left to brighten 
the days of her absence?” asked Unie wonderingly. 

“You dear, little Father Confessor!” responded Violet, 
“Elva never saw these wandering fancies, nor even heard 
my ‘lost chord,’ I trust. Neither have I unearthed any 
treasure from the lost arts!” 

Unie was completely mystified, at the result of her in- 
quiries, and, after a moment’s reflection, ventured to repeat 
her former question. “But what were you playing, Vi, 
dear? Surely you must know something about it!” 

“Truly, I do not, strange as it may seem to you,” an- 
swered Violet, wheeling round in the piano-chair, and 
facing her incredulous sister. “To relieve your suspense 
I might add that I was not playing much of anything, or 
nothing at all; that is, as I remember.” 

“I think you must have been in fairy-land, and discov- 
ered its sweetest music, and sent it echoing through the house 
for our benefit,” said Unie, as a sage smile of satisfaction 


98 


OUT OF TUNE. 


beamed upon her countenance. “But, on returning to 
your normal state, aren’t you hungry? Or have your little 
companions sustained you, with invisible nectar?^’ 

“Yes,^’ replied Violet, “I must confess, Unie, a little 
lunch would be most agreeable, as my wanderings have 
created quite an appetite; if you do not object, I will ac- 
company you up-stairs, and send for something more 
substantial than dewdrops and honeyed sweets.’’ 


CHAPTER XVII. 

Violet’s Confession. 

The sisters repaired to Unie’s boudoir, where a dainty 
little lunch of cold chicken and fruits was arranged, accord- 
ing to Violet’s orders. 

“You must be wearied, Unie, from listening to my vaga- 
ries and had better recline upon the couch;” said Violet. 
“I will move the table beside it, and sit opposite. Per- 
haps, while I am satisfying my normal demands, by doing 
justice to the viands, I may tempt you to share some of 
these luscious grapes and oranges.” 

Unie complied with the suggestion, delighted that she 
was enabled to offer the hospitality of her room. She 
could not understand Violet’s new mood, but attributed 
it to the magic of the fairy-wand which still cast its spell 
over her. She gazed upon her with wrapped admiration, 
charmed with her communicative manner, and wondered 
what she would propose next. 

Yet through all this enjoyment there ran a vein of regret. 
The chord of affection extending between the two was so 
strong that whatever influenced one, was felt in a correspond- 
ing degree by the other. I am told that the bond of sym- 
pathy existing between twins is one of the greatest of the 
human virtues. If true, then it is easily conceived how one 
may lose sight of self and find it in the other; or “lay down 
his life, and take it up again,” as the divine Master taught 
his disciples. 

Unie felt the change in Violet’s plans most keenly. She 
wished that she might devise some way by which this dense 
cloud of disappointment could be dispelled. Feeling her 
inability to do so, she turned with a tender look of com- 
passion, and expressed her sorrow in the sweetest of tones. 
“O, Violet, I am so sorry your plans are all upset! What 
will you do?” 

LOfC. 


lOO 


OUT OF TUNE. 


“Do!” repeated Violet, “why face the situation! Con- 
quer fate! Resign myself to the inevitable! In short, 
make the best of everything, and take what the gods pro- 
vide! I think I can pass a delightful summer with the 
family, and who knows but that I may assist in the prepara- 
tion of another volume of the ‘Lotus Leaves.’” 

“Of course you could, as you understand just how a 
picture should look, even if you do not execute it. I am 
very thankful and appreciate your offer. I shall look for 
great results from it. But, Vi, dear, don’t you care about 
it?” asked Unie in a very serious tone. 

“Do I look as if I did?” questioned Violet, turning with 
a bright smile to her sister. 

“No, you do not!” responded Unie. “You appear 
perfectly satisfied with it all; still I think you must have 
felt very badly at first. I am very glad, however, you 
don’t mind it, and I will not trouble you by grieving over 
nothing. But, Vi, are you sure you really don’t care?” 
repeated Unie, giving vent to the feelings which she could 
not suppress, surging through the heart. 

Violet could only reply with a burst of sobs. All her 
boasted powers of endurance, and self-control seemed 
suddenly to have deserted, when most needed. Philosophy, 
even could devise no method whereby she could conceal 
her feelings. She sat, bowed beneath her woe, over- 
whelmed with grief as a stricken child grieving over a broken 
and idolized toy, which could not be restored. 

“Forgive me, please!” cried Unie, filled with consterna- 
tion at this unexpected change of affairs. “I did not mean 
to wound you. I am so sorry for it all, that I am out of 
patience with myself, for my stupidity.” 

“Do not blame yourself, you dear little Samaritan!” 
exclaimed Violet, drawing a deep sigh. “Like the one of 
old, you have seen my condition, and poured balm into 
my wounds. Do not mind these tears; they have relieved 
an overburdened heart.” 

“Thank you; though I cannot discern, wherein I have 


OUT OF TUNE. 


lOI 


been of the least comfort!’^ said Unie. “When you were 
bearing your disappointment so bravely, to think I upset 
everything with the curiosity of a ‘Mother EveF’’ 

“Just what I needed!” said Violet, smiling at her sister’s 
seriousness. “All my apparent courage vanished when 
tested, and disclosed only frail weakness. You, alone, are 
aware of the true condition of affairs. Mamma, I think, 
from the inquiring look which she sometimes bestows, 
wonders if I have wholly outgrown the childish habit of 
sulking over misfortunes. While papa imagines I have 
learned the philosophy of a Stoic, as time has advanced me to 
the estate of womanhood. But, alas! I have not! I 
inwardly rage and fume and fret, as though a child! I 
have only learned the art of concealment from the chang- 
ing years! So, my dear, little conscience-stricken sister, 
you have nothing to regret. Your probing has been bene- 
ficial, by showing me the motives of the heart. You have 
really bestowed a blessing, as I am happier with you, than 
alone, raging against fate.” 

“O, no, Violet, not so bad as that! You are not hypo- 
critical, in the least. Do not censure yourself so much, 
as I cannot agree,” said Unie in extenuation. 

“Yes, you will, when I inform you that I have been out 
of sorts, or out of tune, for the past ten years! My life 
has been one vast series of deceptions during all that time!” 

“What do you mean?” almost demanded the incredu- 
lous listener, wondering if her sister was suddenly bereft 
of consciousness. 

“That for ten long, weary years, I have been a living 
farce of myself!” repeated Violet. “I have presented a 
smiling exterior to the world, when all the time my heart 
was wearing itself out with its own grief over the unattaina- 
ble. As a worm preys upon the life of a rose, so remorse 
has been preying into my very vitals; and strange as it 
may appear, I would not listen to conscience, and destroy 
the spoiler, but selfishly cherished it!” 

“Poor suffering one, how I wish I might help you!’ 


102 


OUT OF TUNE. 


exclaimed Unie. Sometimes my heart has yearned over 
you, as I thought you were unhappy. But, I never sup- 
posed it as sad as it is. Perhaps, if we talk it over, we may 
think of some way that will free you from this trouble.” 

^^No, there is no way out of this tangle, ” sadly responded 
Violet. ‘‘As I have already intimated, the whole respon- 
sibility rests upon me; and I would rather die than yield I” 

“I do not understand,” said Unie. “I should say from 
what knowledge I possess, you are unnecessarily severe 
upon yourself.” 

“Understand!” reiterated Violet, “how could you, with 
your innocence! If I should tell you everything, I might 
convince you! And what can be more fitting, while at the 
confessional than to lay bare one’s secrets! I have never 
known a happy moment since I parted from Alan Stuart. 
I have allowed you all to think that he broke our engage- 
ment from the change which came into his life; but it is 
not true; the fault was wholly mine, I — ” 

“O, Violet, do not tell me any more!” interrupted Unie. 
“It must be very painful for you, and I know whatever you 
did you thought it for the best.” 

“Alas! I did not; if I only had, what years of suffering 
might have been saved!” sadly mused Violet. “Allow 
me to continue, please, and, for once, place the case in a 
clear light. You may remember, Alan became a religious 
devotee, about three months previous to the time set for 
our wedding. At first I did not consider it of much im- 
portance; I looked upon it as a new fad, of which he would 
soon tire, and especially, when I was wholly disinterested. 
I soon perceived my mistake, as his fervor increased rather 
than diminished. He came to me with everything, never 
dreaming but that I would acquiesce in his grand philan- 
thropic schemes! He talked of taking a part of his for- 
tune to found a college for young men, while I was to do 
likewise for young ladies. My motive, however, was far 
different from his; mine was to stand well in the eyes of the 
world; it would add to the notoriety of Mrs. Alan Stuart to 


OUT OF TUNE. 


103 

lead as the benefactor of a college! His motive was simply 
to do good for his fellow-creatures. The days drifted 
along in this unsatisfactory manner, nearly two months, 
when the limit of my forbearance was reached. One even- 
ing, we had been arranging plans for the future, when 
Alan startled me by asking if it would make any material 
difference if our original intentions, in regard to the wedding 
trip were varied somewhat. I demanded his meaning, and 
he explained, by saying, that the great light which had 
dawned upon him, had opened his eyes to the realities of 
life. He could see things under a different aspect from 
what he had previously viewed them. And, in view of 
the great needs of mankind, he felt it to be his duty to 
alleviate them, as far as it lay in his power. For that rea- 
son, he was willing to devote the remainder of his life to 
that object. He even deemed it no sacrifice, but a pleasure 
intrusted to him. From his Utopian ideas I gathered 
that he hoped to reinstate man to his primal state which 
he occupied before the Fall. He felt in order to perform 
efficient work as a teacher among men, he needed some 
preparation. He had recently met an old college professor, 
and informed him of the marvellous change and his wishes 
regarding it. He had advised a two years’ course at a 
certain university in Germany; stating he would give him 
a letter, telling of his requirements, to one of the teachers, 
an old friend of his. So if it made no difference, we would 
take only three months for the wedding trip, instead of the 
twelve, as originally planned. This arrangement would 
enable him to begin his studies in the early Fall, which he 
desired very much. He said, we might spend the three 
months wherever I thought best ; all the vacations we could, 
also, spend in traveling if I liked. I had refrained from 
making any remarks during this surprising statement, but 
at this stage, I ventured the question, ^ And what next ? ’ 
^^He answered by saying I could take a course of musical 
study during his absence, lest I should miss him. After the 
close of the college course we were to return to our native 


104 


OUT OF TUNE. 


land in order that he might begin his remarkable career 
of serving his fellow-man! 

‘Tmagine, if you can, my chagrin, at seeing all the gor- 
geous air-castles, which I had erected, demolished by a 
single breath! I was already counting my triumphs as a 
leader in the fashionable world; a connoisseur of art, and 
a patron of literary and musical celebrities. I wondered 
if he thought I could surrender all this for the pleasure of 
becoming the wife of an unhonored minister! I think I 
must have startled him, somewhat, when I asked if he would 
not like to go to the Western Wilds, as a colporteur or a 
missionary to the Sandwich Islands with me as a tract 
distributor! 

‘^He evinced no surprise, however, but calmly answered, 
‘certainly, if you wish it, I should be most happy in doing 
so!’ 

“Then, without realizing the extent of the wrong I was 
committing, or the sorrow I was heaping upon my own soul, 
I flew into a most violent rage. Snatching his ring from 
my finger, I threw it at him, exclaiming, ‘ take your property 
to one who believes as you do; I will share a divided love 
with no man!’ 

“All the brightness fled from his countenance, as he 
stooped, and raised the ring from the floor where it had 
fallen at his feet. He turned to me, and asked in the sad- 
dest tone, I think I ever heard, if I meant the words I had 
just uttered. He said he might be at fault in not considering 
the position I occupied; he had taken too much for granted, 
perhaps; if so, he was willing to make such concessions 
as I thought proper. 

“I flippantly remarked, ‘none are necessary! I have 
thought for some time that we were not suited for each 
other from a diversity of opinion, and now I am thoroughly 
convinced of it!’ 

“I can never forget the tender words, in which he bade 
me farewell; they are impressed indellibly upon my memory. 
‘Violet/ he said, ‘I am very sorry you have reached such a 


OUT OF TUNE. 


los 

decision; I have thought we were to spend our lives to- 
gether, but find I have made a grievious mistake. I hoped 
we could be the means of accomplishing great good for the 
benefit of others by helping them to a higher plane of living. 
We might have done so much together; I always thought 
of you as my companion in every good work. Now, I 
find that is impossible; much that I would attempt must 
go, as I cannot work without your assistance. I shall try 
to bear this cross uncomplainingly. He knows what is 
best. You speak of a divided love,’ not realizing that the 
new joy has illumined my life, making my love for you 
purer and deeper. I trust you may be happy in the coming 
years with the way you have chosen. Yours wil be a fairer 
lot than mine. You will be surrounded by dear ones, 
friends, and many others who will worship at your shrine 
of beauly; while I, a stranger in a foreign land, shall devote 
time and energy to the study of the truths of revelation. 
Keep this circlet of gold as a souvenir of our friendship, 
until some one more worthy than I shall give another in 
its place. What my plans will now be for the future, I can- 
not say. You have my best wishes as though nothing 
had interposed. In parting, let me say, Violet, that if you 
ever weary of the brilliancy of life, in not finding it, as sat- 
isfactory as anticipated, you are welcome to your old place 
at my side. No one can ever fill it, but you, and it will 
always be in waiting for you. I think the nobleness of your 
nature will demand more than the glitter, glare, and pomp 
of this world; when that time comes, send for me, my poor 
struggling dove, and I will hasten to you, on the wings of 
love. Till then, I bid you a fond farewell, my heart’s 
dearest love.’ 

fe^i^^^With these words, Alan Stuart left my presence, while 
I condescendingly bestowed a most gracious bow upon 
him, as though he were a mere stranger. Our dream of 
love was over. Paradise was lost. We were parted forever. 
And, yet, I would act in the same way again, if compelled. 
You see, it was a question of having my own way. I had, 


io6 


OUT OF TUNE. 


never, been denied even a single wish, and could not see 
why I should sacrifice a year’s happiness for a mere whim. 
I encountered, for the first time, one whose will was greater 
than mine, and with the strange anomaly of human nature, 
I chose to mar my own happiness rather than acknowledge 
it. Stranger still, the fact presented itself that my love was 
intensified by the trial. I had never loved Alan Stuart as 
I did at that time! 

^‘Alan, I learned, sailed for Europe on the very steamer 
that we intended to take. He went directly to Germany, 
and took up a course of study, which required some five 
years to complete. What a blessing he must have found it, 
to be free from the care of a wife! I might have enter- 
tained his proposition if he had adhered to the plan of a 
year’s travel, before commencing college work, and then 
allowed me to remain in London, or Paris, at the best houses. 
I could have entertained royally with a suitable companion, 
while he devoted himself to science. But to compel me to 
submit to the drudgery of practise for two years was simply 
absurd, and entirely out of the question. At the close of 
his studies he traveled through Egypt and the Holy Land 
for a year. Since that time, about four years I think, he has 
been settled over a small church somewhere in the vicinity 
of London. It is called Saint Julian, Saint Mark, or Saint 
Alan, I don’t remember which. Once a year I receive 
some notice of his whereabouts; generally a newspaper, 
or circular, but never a word from him. I have taken care 
that he also is informed of my doings. A copy of ^Town 
Topics’ is sent whenever there is an account concerning 
me. He was informed of the Morritons’ removal to New 
York, and the opening of the mansion house; also, of my 
entrance into society, as one of its acknowledged leaders. 
I wonder if he imagines such brilliant conquests as I have 
achieved, could have been made in the reflected light of 
the Reverend Alan Stuart’s wife 1 

have drained the cup of pleasure to its very dregs! 
Yet it has given neither satisfaction nor happiness! Only 


OUT OF TUNE. 


107 

remorse! The greater the pain the deeper I have plunged 
to drown my sorrows, till life has become one dizzy whirl 
of endless gaiety! I have cried, ^soul take thine ease,’ 
never dreaming that I should reap thorns from gilded 
brambles! I am weary of the fearful struggle, yet, I can- 
not, or will not stop. Perhaps Alan Stuart knew better 
than I, the needs of my soul, when he referred to this time ; 
when I should not be content with the vanities of the world. 
True, it has come, yet I am not willing to acknowledge him, 
my mentor, or inform him, that like a stricken dove, I am 
willing to fly to his ark of safety. 

^‘An ordinary person would have become a prostrate 
victim to nerves; but a good physique has thus far stood 
me good service. I have been feeling unusually depressed 
of late; another anniversary is drawing near, and they are 
really the hardest of all to bear, when Mary’s letter proved 
to be The last straw which broke the camel’s back.’ The 
tension of the nerves became strained to their utmost, and 
I was fearful of a collapse; yet I managed, after a fearful 
struggle to conceal everything under one of Bobby Burns’ 
quotations. I mislead them all, I think, unless it was one, 
not far distant, who had a most penetrating intuition, kin- 
dred to that possessed by the one who has caused my life , 
to become a failure. 

‘^Bear with me, a little longer, Unie, dear, and I will 
cease. I have experienced a sort of misery-like company 
pleasure in knowing that he must have suffered also. The 
reason he does not return and carry out his philanthropic 
intentions, I think, is owing either to the old associations 
which still exist, or the statement made that he would wait 
till I summoned him. Certainly, if he waits till that day 
arrives he will never see his native shores again. As I would 
just as soon think of sending for The man in the moon,’ as 
for him! Both are too absurd to contemplate. He is 
laboring among his brother men, I understand, without re- 
compense. As he is sufficiently endowed with this world’s 
goods, he considers it his bounden duty to assist those less 


io8 


OUT OF TUNE. 


favored than himself. He has worked untiringly for the in- 
terests of the young men in every community where he has 
stopped; "providing evening schools, reading rooms, and 
wholesome places of amusement. Yes, he has done, and is 
doing a most noble work, but I wish I could forget him, 
and thrust him out of my heart, and end this torturing 
anguish. I have tried to fill the place which he occupied, 
with another; but, all in varn; he is too firmly enshrined 
within my very life, to be dislodged. 

“The great charm of this intended trip abroad, lay in the 
thought that I might know better what he had accomplished, 
and, unperceived, visit the scenes of his labors, and perchance 
obtain a glimpse of the minister himself. Should he ob- 
tain a knowledge of my visit, he would learn that I was 
not afraid ‘to beard the lion in his den’. ” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

The Missing Note. 

Violet sat at the close of the long, sad recital wondering 
what Unie would say to it all. She felt the secret satis- 
faction that having started upon her story, she had kept 
nothing back. She had opened, even, the hidden recesses 
of the heart, to another. Never before had she realized 
how dark and treacherous they were. She had kept them 
so securely fastened no ray of conscience could penetrate 
their gloom. And, now, when she had humiliated herself 
in spreading them out for inspection, she had not found 
them nearly as bad as she thought. She was somewhat 
puzzled, not considering that time smooths the ‘‘ragged 
edges of despair.’’ 

Unie sat wondering what she could say. She had been 
deeply interested in all the details of the exciting story, 
though surprised at the startling developments. She wished 
she might lead her sister out from the “sinking sands” 
of despair and remorse, to the sheltering Rock of faith. 
She was thinking just what she could say under the circum- 
stances; how could she console Violet, without censuring 
Alan ; how could she sympathize with Alan, without offend- 
ing Violet? Truly her position as a judge was a very trying 
one. How could she be impartial and not become equivo- 
cal? She was v/eighing all the “pros and cons,” most 
carefully when Violet u]>set the equilibrium of her scales 
of adjustment, and placed her back into the former state of 
uncertainty. 

“Well, Unie, what do you think of this terrible weight of 
woe which I have carried all these years?” Violet asked, 
impatiently, scattering away every idea which had pre- 
sented itself to the sister’s mind. “Don’t you think I quite 
equal Atlas in the endurance of bearing such a load?” 

“O, Violet, I am so sorry for youl” cried Unie. “I am 


no 


OUT OF TUNE. 


sorry for you bothF’ she mournfully added. What could 
have possessed you to make you act in such a way.” 

^'Then you consider that I am the one in the wrong!” 
said Violet. ^^Well, go on, my fair arbitrator, and set your 
accusations forth!” 

‘‘Excuse me, please, Violet,” replied Unie. “If your 
way had not been wrong there would not have been so 
much unhappiness. You both have been miserable ever 
since. On the contrary, had your way been right, you 
both would have been happy for many years. Ten years 
which can never be recalled and lived over again! Ten 
years which have only brought an additional load of sor- 
row to each burdened heart, while they lengthened out the 
days of life!” 

“Truly your reasoning is logical, though it condemns 
me. But it may be a necessary antidote, at this time,” 
remarked Violet, surprised at her sister^s acumen. “Con- 
tinue, please, it may look differently under your representa- 
tion.” 

“I did not mean to wound you,” apologized Unie. “I 
was trying to arrange something pleasing when you scat- 
tered all my bright thoughts to the winds.” 

“Then we are quits!” exclaimed Violet, with a ringing 
laugh. “It will be a novelty to hear the plain unvarnished 
truth instead of commendation. But, please, don’t moralize, 
as I despise all that trash! It is not worth the breath one 
spends upon it, as it always opens a door for argument.” 

“Alan’s fate, it seems to me, has been harder to bear 
than that of the most hardened criminal,” continued Unie. 
“The vilest wretch who breaks all the commandments of 
the decalogue is not condemned unheard, while you have 
sentenced one whom you love to an exile’s fate, without 
listening to one plea. He only asked a few months of 
pleasure to be sacrificed for the good of others; without 
hearing one word of defense, you ruthlessly broke the bond 
existing between you, and sacrificed both lives rather than 
yield. His sense of honor keeps him an outcast from his 


OUT OF TUNE. 


Ill 


old home. He will not return and pursue his work, lest 
the tongue of gossip should begin about you. I think, 
Violet, you have injured an innocent man. How you must 
have wounded him, when you said you would not ^ share a 
divided love!’” 

‘‘Well! can you show me it was not?” asked Violet, 
anxiously, though she felt perfectly sure that this bulwark 
of her opposition could not be overthrown. 

“O, yes!” smilingly assented Unie. “I can tell you of 
a love, so wonderful, so mighty, so broad, and so deep that 
it is inexhaustible ! Its vast treasury can never suffer deple- 
tion by the needs of the people, not even, if the whole earth 
were to draw on it at once. It has stood for all ages; before 
time itself began; and will endure beyond eternity. It is 
the great incomprehensible love of the Creator! It is the 
richest Gift a Father ever bestowed upon his children! 
This Love, a Gift from Divinity to humanity! He who 
possesses this treasure never feels any loss from sharing 
it with others. On the contrary, it increases by use! 
It is the perfect love of God, and cannot be divided! Do 
you understand my meaning ? Or have I been too vague ? ” 

“No, I do not!” replied Violet, “though it is no fault of 
yours. You have presented the subject as ably as any 
of the most noted divines. You are evidently better in- 
formed than I, and speak from experience.” 

“Let me try to make it plainer for you,” continued Unie, 
reassuringly. “Mamma loves us all; but, does she love 
any one less, because she gives her affection to all? If 
there were more, could she not love the others as much, 
without taking from our store? Do you comprehend?” 

“Yes! I understand your meaning!” said Violet. “You 
have made it plain enough for the dullest comprehension, 
though I fail to see any analogy between the two. I cannot 
conceive of the attributes of a Supreme Being becoming 
incarnate. The difference between the two seems too vast 
to be spanned by any device of man, or any system of wis- 
dom which might be termed religion, or divine revelation. 


II2 


OUT OF TUNE. 


That which is so clear to you is an unfathomable mystery 
to me.’’ 

“O Violet! I am not able to discuss such abstruse ques- 
tions!” cried Unie, in dismay. ‘^They are utterly beyond 
me. I leave ethics to you and papa who are able to handle 
them, I cannot.” 

‘‘My dear sister!” said Violet, compassionately, “I would 
not ask you to wade into the deep waters of uncertainty; 
neither would I cause you to drift from your safe anchorage 
in life’s treacherous sea. But, now, as the matter is under 
consideration, perhaps you might throw a little light upon 
it in your simple and childish way, which might enable me 
to see as you do. In the first place, if a wise God wished 
my love, why did He not create it, or put it into my heart ? 
Why should I have to be told to do it by another? Love 
to parents is inherent, and why is it not to the Great 
Father?” 

“Why, Violet, it is just the same! only you do not know 
it. It is the greater love which comes from ‘Our Father,’ 
that enables you to love us all. He has sown love in every 
heart. Some will not let it thrive, but try to choke it with 
the weeds of selfishness; others are not aware of its exist- 
ence, as they have never allowed any trespassing on their 
premises. Some are very happy in learning its swxet 
truths, and spreading them forth to the ‘weary and heavy- 
laden ; ’ while others are very unhappy in striving to drown 
the ‘still small voice’ which is ringing a plaintive melody 
in their souls. Ofttimes they have lulled it to rest, with the 
mazy rhythm of pleasure’s fancy, thinking they had buried 
It in oblivion ; but found themselves deceived, as it echoed 
faintly in their ears, through the silent watches of the night. 
It is always pleading with them, while they are ever striving 
to elude it. You see, it would not be necessary to tell peo- 
ple of this love, if they only listened to the little messenger 
implanted within their own hearts; but all do not, so it 
falls upon us to tell them.” 

“Your simple, beautiful and accurate illustrations 


OUT OF TUNE. 


113 

convince me that what you have so finely delineated must be 
true/’ said Violet, seriously. ‘‘You have described my 
condition better, even, than I could myself. How often 
have I awakened from a pleasant dream talking with Alan, 
to find it but a dream; a mockery, as it were, of my shattered 
hopes. Yes, I know, what you say must be true! Your 
life and mamma’s exemplify your belief! Truly, you both 
are in unison with the teachings of the great Leader! while 
I, alas! am sadly out of tune!” 

“But, dear sister, having discovered the missing note, 
which was necessary for the harmony of your life, you will 
sometime place it in its proper position, and join with grate- 
ful heart the grand symphony of a loving Father! I trust 
some day you will do this,” said Unie, confidently. 

“Perhaps I may! Who knows! Though I have not 
your prophetic vision. But allowing that I should, I could 
never become Alan’s wife; that is, as entirely beyond me 
as it was in the long ago. I shall never be suitable for such 
a position, and would not take it, if I were. He has clearly 
shown that he can exist without my assistance, and I would 
imitate him, by making no complaint. But I am weary 
of shams and deceptions, and desire a change. Why! I 
verily believe I am as great a fraud as Bee Moreland, whom 
I so utterly detest!” These words threw Violet into a 
burst of laughter, in which Unie joined from sympathy. 

Violet’s natural vein of humor restored the depressed 
spirits to their normal temperature. She laughed long and 
merrily, till all the shades of perplexity were driven away, 
and her countenance was wreathed with smiles. “Now!” 
she resumed, as her merriment subsided, “‘Richard is 
himself again!’ and we will return to the subject. As you 
have aided me so much in my secret sorrows, by pointing 
out a remedy, perhaps you might show a way out of this 
present chaos. What would you do, under the circum- 
stances? Would you not abandon all idea of the trip, at 
present, as I am doing ? ” she asked, with eagerness. 

“O, no!” quietly ansv/ered Unie. “I should consider 


OUT OF TUNE. 


114 

Mary’s proposition, and try to accept it, out of deference 
to her wishes. You know she would suggest nothing im- 
proper.” 

‘‘Whew!” ejaculated Violet. ^‘For persistency person- 
ified, commend me to one of the quiet, inoffensive ones! 
The proposition is preposterous, from my utter abhorence 
of the person mentioned! Do suggest something different, 
or at least palatable, lest I become a monomaniac on the 
subject of Bees!” 

‘‘I can think of nothing better than a visit to Mary,” 
said Unie, seeing the surprised merriment twinkling in her 
sister’s eyes. ^‘You can arrange with her whatever you 
like. Possibly you might meet Mrs. Moreland there, and 
change your opinion concerning her.” 

“The very thing!” agreed Violet. “I really believe you 
are more energetic than I am. You quietly plan something 
for action, while I inwardly rage at fate. I will start to- 
morrow with Lucy, for Mary’s and answer her letter in 
person. There is no telling what may transpire before my 
return. I may go to Europe this year, after all. Who 
knows ! I will go and inform mamma of my new intention, 
and return to a social little tea with you in this very room. 
Arrange whatever you like, and I shall be satisfied. ‘Au 
revoir’,” she cried, and departed with buoyant heart and 
step. 

Violet went to her room and summoned her maid; she 
gave directions to have everything in readiness for an early 
start for the East on the following day. “I shall require 
you, Lucy, for the journey, not to assist me wholly, but 
more to help Mrs. Arthurs who is very busy preparing to 
leave home. See that John has the carriage in readiness 
and ascertain the time of the trains.” 

Afterwards she informed Mrs. Morriton of the new ar- 
rangement. Although the mother was acquainted with 
the daughter’s startling novelties she was surprised at such 
a statement just at this time, when Mary’s letter had con- 
tained nothing which called for it. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


IIS 


Violet completed the arrangements in regard to the 
journey and stepped into her room to make a few changes 
in her toilet before returning to Unie. While doing so she 
thought of Alan’s ring and wondered if it was bright after 
all these years. She unlocked a box of mementoes and took 
from it a tiny casket. She carefully untied the ribbon 
which held a tarnished gilt paper, unlocked the casket and 
raised from its velvet cushion the ring which she had placed 
there ten years before. Joy thrilled through every vein 
as she beheld, once more, its beautiful, sparkling purity. 
She glanced at the inscription; ‘‘Alan — Mizpah — Violet.” 
She had forgotten that intervening word! “How strange!” 
she murmured. “Truly God has watched between us and 
Alan chose well, when he selected this. I will wear it, and 
it may prove a talisman and bring me happiness.” 

“What a beautiful new ring you have!” Unie remarked, 
as they sat chatting over the impromptu tea. 

“Yes, isn’t it lovely!” assented Violet. “It is one I 
found among my treasures! See! It has a very touching 
inscription!” She drew the beautiful solitaire from her 
finger, and placed it in her sister’s hand, for inspection. 

“O Violet!” exclaimed Unie as she read the significant 
word between the names of the two loved ones, “how happy 
you must feel in finding it again! I am happy in seeing 
that you have restored it to its proper place and trust you 
may never lose it again ! It certainly will insure happiness ! ’ ’ 
Unie saw that Violet’s feet were entering upon a new 
path, and offered a silent prayer: “May He who notes ‘ the 
sparrow’s fall,’ aid this dear one to see that life’s missing 
note is the key-note of all true happiness and love!” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


ViOLET^s First Opportunity. 

The next day, Violet, accompanied by Lucy, took the noon 
express for Boston. The exhilarating air of the beautiful 
day was thoroughly appreciated by the happy maiden. 
She felt in accord with nature. 

‘‘What a delicious day!’’ she exclaimed, as they were 
rushing along through the charming country. “How 
lovely the trees appear with their new Spring robes! See 
how the soft, mellow tints of emerald have covered the hills 
and fields! Why the balmy air reminds one of an early 
Summer day! I never saw such an exquisite day this time 
of the year, did you ? ” 

“O, yes!” calmly answered Lucy. “Yesterday was 
just as beautiful as to-day; only a little milder.” 

“Yesterday!” repeated Violet. “I don’t think I re- 
member anything about it! That is, in regard to the 
weather!” 

Lucy had provided several of the leading magazines of 
the day that the tediousness of the journey might be re- 
lieved. Violet, although very fond of travel, considered it 
tiresome and disagreeable, and always availed herself of 
every measure to while away the time. Usually she spent 
the hours in reading. 

But in this instance she had no desire to indulge in her 
favorite pastime. The train of thought started in Unie’s 
room some twenty hours before, had not reached its desti- 
nation. It was one of those inward trains which run inde- 
pendently of time-tables; whose velocity increases or dimin- 
ishes at the option of the operator. They excel in manner 
of locomotion, any invention of man, either by steam, 
electricity, or condensed air. They penetrate alike, the 
wooded glen, and sweep over the eagle’s home on highest 
crag in perfect safety. They cross the ocean’s vast expanse 


OUT OF TUNE. 


117 


to distant climes, and return like magic. One may linger 
at any station, according to his own sweet will and the train 
awaits his pleasure. No tracks are necessary for their 
course; they simply follow the flights of the imagination, 
having a “special permit’’ from the Great Master. They 
go to and fro, through all the days of life, and complete a 
circuit of happiness, or unhappiness, as the case may be; 
one of happiness, if the heart beats in unison with the 
natural laws; but, on the contrary, one of wretchedness 
and disaster, if the heart chafes at opposition, and rushes 
rapidly to its own destruction. 

On the preceding day, while Violet was taking this strange 
mental journey, she noticed a small station called Oppor- 
tunity. Intent upon investigation, she stopped, and while 
there, learned the sweet truth, that doing good unto others 
was the better way to cure one’s sorrows. To-day, while 
being borne along by the “iron-horse,” the mind had taken 
unperceived, the same route, and tarried at the little place. 

On and on, the outward train, with its warning and 
reverberating whistle, whizzed over the polished rails, 
powerless to arrest her attention. 

“Strange!” she mused, “that I have always missed this 
refreshing retreat! I must know more of it!” 

Selfishness had been Violet’s dominant note. The praise, 
and adulation of society had strengthened and nourished 
the trait so zealously that it had become the leading element 
of her existence. It had been the “one thing desired above 
all others!” Life had been so completely filled with her 
own anticipations of pleasure, that she had no room to think 
of others; self, like a tyrant, had seized every avenue of the 
heart, and guarded it from any intrusion, with an iron 
monopoly. 

Unie’s suggestions had made an innovation in the closed 
passages, and opened them to the light. Violet was under- 
going a new experience. The former disinterestedness 
was yielding to the precepts of the golden rule. “As ye 
would that men should do to you, do ye also to them like- 
wise.” These inspired words were soothing the inquiring 


ii8 


OUT OF TUNE. 


heart. A novel sensation was stealing through the awak- 
ened faculties, and she amused herself with the indulgence. 
She found it satisfactory and permanent; in contrast to the 
evanescence of former pursuits. The memory of the 
emotions was sweet, instead of bitter, and they shone in 
resplendent beauty upon the fair brow, as a landscape 
mirrored upon the placid waters of a lake. 

‘‘How is your sister, Lucy? Is she improving? If I 
remember, correctly, you said she had been quite poorly. 
Is there any recent news?’’ asked Violet, noticing that her 
companion sat absently holding a magazine without open- 
ing it. 

“Yes, I received a letter from her a short time ago; but 
it was not very encouraging;” sadly answered Lucy. 

“I am sorry for you both! Tell me all about it, and, 
perhaps, we can suggest something that may help her,” 
said Violet sympathetically. 

“I would like to, if I do not weary you. Fannie has had 
a severe attack of La Grippe. The physician thinks it 
was caused from over-work and mental anxiety; but that 
sufficient rest will restore her. He says, she ought not to 
resume study of any kind, Lefore Fall. She is able to sit up, 
now, though not strong enough for exercise on account of 
the weariness of which she continually complains. 

“What has made her work so hard ? Was it necessary ? ” 
asked Violet, greatly interested. 

“She is extremely fond of art, and hopes to make it a 
profession. She has studied very hard for the past seven 
years without any rest. She took a four years’ course at 
the Seminary, and, while there developed a talent for draw- 
ing, and decided to devote all her energies to the pursuit of 
it. She has been attending the Normal Art School, three 
years, and has made rapid progress. I hear from others 
that she has done some excellent work. The term closes 
in the early Summer, and Fannie thought she could easily 
make up the time lost in sickness, if she was permitted to 
resume her studies, at once. She seems discouraged at 


OUT OF TUNE. 


119 


the lack of strength and the physician’s verdict. She has 
been offered the position of teacher when the Fall term 
commences but is fearful she cannot accept it on account of 
this sickness.” 

think we may be able to help her,” interposed Violet. 
^^She can make you a visit and remain all summer if she 
wishes. You know Aunt Lida’s passion for nursing, so 
your sister would be well-cared for through the trying stage 
of recovery. I feel confident the change will do her good. 
After we are settled at Mrs. Arthurs’ you might take a 
little trip home, and tell her of the plan. If it meets with 
approval, you can take her back to Unie and Aunt Lida, 
and remain a few days till she becomes acquainted. Tell 
your sister that she will confer a favor upon me, if she ac- 
cepts my invitation. Unie is lonely, now, without Elva, 
and I am generally so busy that sometimes I am afraid she 
must feel neglected. Fannie might, for a time, fill the gap. 
I hope she can be persuaded to make a good long visit to 
Morriton House. Perhaps her sickness has used all the 
provisions made for a rainy day, and she needs a few little 
things; so I will send a trifling gift, which I trust may be 
requisite for everything.” 

Violet took several bills from her portemonnaie, placed 
them with one of her cards, in an envelope, and handed it 
to Lucy. “If she should need more than I have provided 
let me know, and I will most cheerfully give it,” added 
Violet. “Don’t let her consider herself my debtor, as she 
can make all the sketches she chooses for Unie’s ^ Lotus 
Leaves.’” 

‘‘Oh, Miss Morriton, how can I ever repay you for such 
great kindness I” cried Lucy, wiping the tears from her 
eyes. “Fannie will appreciate your magnanimous offer, I 
can assure you.” 

“Nonsense!” ejaculated Violet. “Remember there is 
no obligation! If we were to measure values, I realize I 
should be the gainer. I had proposed to help Unie this 
Summer, if possible, but I little thought that the promise 


120 


OUT OF TUNE. 


would be fulfilled in this manner. However, I am delighted 
to keep it by proxy, it can be done so much better.’’ 

Violet had seized the first opportunity which had presented 
itself; that of doing good unto others. She felt a secret 
thrill of pleasure steal through the heart at the knowledge 
that she could render assistance to others. The same 
generous characteristic predominated with her, as with 
Harry. Whatever they did, they represented themselves 
as the recipients, rather than the benefactors. 

Newton!” shouted the conductor; the train stopped; 
some went out; others came in and filled their places; 
“this train is express for Boston,” he added, and it started 
again upon its course. 

“I had no idea we were so near our destination!” said 
Violet. “I never knew the trip to seem so short before. 
It has been delightful, and must be owing to your enter- 
tainment. I must have your company, Lucy, in traveling, 
you are so interesting. 

“Thank you,” answered Lucy. “I was thinking the 
same in regard to you. I know I have greatly enjoyed 
the ride, and attributed the pleasure to your kind interest, 
and noble benevolence towards Fannie. Indeed, I was 
feeling down-hearted, and discouraged, when you came to 
my assistance and drove away the morbidness. I am more 
grateful to you than I know how to express. ” 

“It seems, then, as though we have been mutual bene- 
factors,” assented Violet considerately. “I see we shall 
not have time to stop at the hotel; we will take a coach 
across the city to the station, lunch there, and be in season 
for the next train to Oakhurst. What a surprise it will be 
to Mary to see us!” 


CHAPTER XX. 

Mary Arthurs. 

Oakhurst was the home of the Arthurs. It was situated 
in one of Boston’s fairest suburbs, a small town of hills 
and dales. It derived its name from the grand old oaks 
which stood on guard like giant sentinels, with their strong, 
protecting arms. Its grounds were quite extensive, cover- 
ing nearly ten acres. Broad avenues bordered with maples, 
sycamores, horse-chestnuts and firs, wound in and out, 
to all parts. They led to an adjoining park, where one could 
wander for hours amid sylvan glories, and enjoy the natural 
beauties of wood and stream, free from the busy hum of 
manufacture. 

The mansion stood upon a pleasant knoll facing the east. 
It was a beautiful structure, and partook of the old colonial 
style of architecture. The eastern outlook was upon a 
sloping lawn, smooth and soft as emerald velvet. It was 
dotted here and there with ornamental shrubs, each laden 
with the brilliant blossoms of its season. A large grapery 
bearing the choice Black Hamburg stood in the northern 
part of the grounds. On the southern slope adjoining the 
lawn, lay the lovely gardens, with their hedges of arbor- 
vitae, and spruce; beyond these were shady groves of oak 
and elm, interspersed with walnut and cedar. Barns and 
outhouses stood some distance away, at the west. 

The family at Oakhurst numbered four. Doctor Harlow 
Arthurs, the father, Mary Arthurs, the mother, and two 
young maidens just budding into womanhood: Ruth, the 
elder, and Hilda some four years younger. It was a happy 
household; an ideal home that is so seldom realized; a 
paradise upon earth. 

Harlow Arthurs was an eminent physician. He was the 
son of a physician, and early trained in therapeutics. He 
graduated from one of the best New England Medical 


122 


OUT OF TUNE. 


Colleges, and shortly afterwards gave his services to his 
country, during the War of the Rebellion. At its close, he 
commenced life with his charming wife, in a neighboring 
town where he remained only a short time ; removing to the 
bustling little town where he had made a permanent resi- 
dence. 

Dr. Arthurs was small in stature, though very energetic. 
His keen gray eyes bespoke sound judgment and deep pene- 
tration. A full forehead showed wisdom and language, 
while a finely chiseled chin, with firm mouth gave evidence 
of marked individuality, which could not be swerved from 
the principles of faith and justice, or anything contrary to 
the possessor's well-seasoned investigations. 

Dr. Arthurs had a large practice, not only in his immediate 
vicinity, but in the neighboring towns. His superior skill 
in surgery had gained him a far-famed reputation. He was 
frequently desired in consultation upon critical cases. He 
possessed that rare trait of cheerfulness, and vivacity of 
manner, and sympathy for the patient, which aids so much 
in recovery; a virtue often lacking among the medical 
fraternity. Nothwithstanding, sympathetic nursing is as 
important a factor in the restoration to health as the phar- 
maceutical remedies of the materia medica. 

Mary Arthurs was a woman of the most estimable virtues. 
She had the fair complexion of a blonde, and a wondrous 
wealth of soft, golden hair. Her mild blue eyes beamed 
with tender compassion. In their liquid depths, one caught 
the radiant gleams of a sunny, cheerful disposition. The 
countenance was always wreathed in smiles, in her thought- 
fulness for others. Her words were as ^‘apples of gold in 
pictures of silver.’’ 

She was the leading spirit at Oakhurst. The guardian 
angel of the household. Yet, no one was conscious of her 
gentle sway, or felt any tiresome demands. She ruled by 
love; that ‘‘perfect love which casteth out all fear.” All 
who came within the circle of her acquaintance were bene- 
fited. They recognized the sweet, gentle sympathy of their 
benefactor. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


123 


She was favored with a fair portion of this world’s goods, 
and she willingly shared it with the needy. The poor, 
heavy-burdened laborer felt his load grow lighter from her 
timely assistance. The hungry were never turned from 
the door empty-handed. No appeal was ever made in 
vain to her. ‘‘What can I do to help them?” was the ques- 
tion she asked herself, whenever she heard of those in dis- 
tress. And she answered it in a silent, unobtrusive manner. 

Her life was like a tranquil Summer’s day; clear and 
bright, without a cloud across its horizon; and sweet with 
the scent of opening flowers stealing through the balmy 
air. She walked a shining path, brightening the shadows 
with fragrant deeds of kindness. 

Her heart beat in unison with the Father’s wondrous 
works. Its vibrating chords resounded in soothing pianis- 
simo, like the dulcet melody of a rare old song. A deep, 
rich minor strain of inexpressible tenderness ran through 
all its measures. The spiritual and the physical were in 
consonance with each other. Nature responded to the 
rhythm of the soul, making a perfect harmony. She was in 
tune. That happy state of existence, which lies within the 
reach of every one, but, which can only be reached through 
self-sacrifice. 

One might easily gain a conception of our mother Eve, 
when she stood in Paradise, as the last crowning act of 
creation, from the life of Mary Arthurs. 

She was a true helpmeet to her husband; she kept watch 
over all his interests, and aided him by her gentle ministra- 
tions. She was the last to note his departure upon profes- 
sional visits, and the first to welcome his return with a 
smile. This pleasing little remembrance was always 
observed, and tenderly appreciated by the recipient. Many 
things which ordinarily are left to the care of servants, 
came under her supervision thereby adding to the comforts 
of the household. She always kept the lamp trimmed, and 
burning in the Doctor’s office. It was her wise forethought 
which sent its ruddy glow out into the night, as a beacon, to the 
passer-by. 


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the knowledge so carefully, and illustrated it so beautifully, 
though unconsciously, by his own life, that it touched a 
responsive chord in the daughter’s heart, causing it to 
vibrate in unison. 

Reader, the sketch of Mary Arthurs is not an ideal one. 
It is no exaggerated fancy of the author’s imagination ; only, 
a very faint representation of a true and noble woman. 
But mind nor pen can no more do justice to her many virtues, 
than the shadow can show the reality of the object whose 
form it borrows! Each only dimly reflects the original. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

‘'One Good Turn Deserves Another.^' 

It was early in the evening at Oakhurst. The Doctor, 
after a long, busy day was enjoying a pleasant pastime with 
the family. The light from the office shed its cheering 
rays upon the “shades of night,’’ telling of warmth and 
happiness within. 

Father, mother and daughters were indulging in the social 
game of halma; a simple little game, yet fascinating and 
exciting from its unexpected leaps. 

“I hope, papa, you will not be obliged to go out again 
this evening!” exclaimed Ruth. “We will try to make you 
forget all weariness, if we can only keep you.” 

“I echo your sentiments, my dear,” said the Doctor, 
“and appreciate your sympathy; but, you know a physi- 
cian’s life is one of ‘duty before pleasure,’ so I must hold 
myself in readiness for any emergency. Still, that will not 
prevent our present happiness, and we will make the most 
of the passing moments in spite of the uncertain,” he added, 
seeing the troubled look upon her brow. 

“After we finish our game, I know Hilda will contribute 
to our entertainment by a few musical selections,” said Mrs. 
Arthurs. 

Hilda readily acquiesced in the proposed arrangement, 
and the moments fled away freighted with happiness. 

The mother paused a second to watch one of the cross 
and crisscross movements of Hilda, when an outer sound 
arrested her attention. “I think I hear a carriage coming 
up the avenue,” she remarked. 

Each listened, but could detect nothing only a faint 
rumbling in the distance, which they attributed to a passing 
vehicle on the highway. The game was resumed, though 
the trained ear of the mother could not be deceived. She 
had watched so often, the ear was keen, and extremely 
alert to much that passed unnoticed by her companions. 


128 


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Shortly afterv/ards, carriage wheels were heard, beside 
the veranda, giving evidence of the mother’s accuracy. A 
jingling peal of the bell went echoing through the house 
interrupting on its way the engrossing little game. 

‘‘Let me see the disturber of our peace!” cried Ruth 
eagerly. “It can’t be any one to see you, papa, coming 
in a carriage, can it?” Without waiting for an answer, 
she rushed from the room, leaving the others as curious as 
she was, though not so impatient. 

Quickly opening the door she perceived two ladies coming 
towards her. Her astonishment increased rather than 
diminished, when the larger one advanced, grasped her in 
her arms, and hastily imprinted a kiss upon her brow, 
exclaiming, “Why, Ruth, aren’t you glad to see me?” 

“Glad!” repeated Ruth; “I am simply delighted to see 
you. Aunt Violet! But you gave me such a surprise that 
you nearly took away my senses! Do come and surprise 
the waiting trio in the office.” 

“Excuse me, please, for interrupting this family quartet 
in such an unceremonious manner! Do not let me delay 
the social game which I see you have been indulging in,” 
said Violet Morriton, as she passed through the doorway, 
and entered the room with as much ease as though she had 
been an inmate of Oakhurst for weeks, instead of moments. 

“Why, Vi, dear, where did you come from?” cried Mrs. 
Arthurs. “Let me take your wraps, and make you com- 
fortable in this easy-chair. I am delighted to see you, and 
most agreeably surprised. I wonder if you could have 
received my letter, though I hardly think it possible.” 

Violet keenly enjoyed the situation, secretly amused at 
the bewildered look resting upon Mrs. Arthurs’ countenance. 
“I will relieve your anxiety, Mary, by informing you that 
I came directly from home; also, that I received your volum- 
inous epistle which I thought I could answer better in person, 
than by writing. So, here I am, at Unie’s suggestion.” 

“If you had telegraphed me I would have met you in 
town, and lessened the monotony of the journey a trifle,” 


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129 


said Mrs. Arthurs, always careful concerning the welfare 
of her guests. “But what did you think of the suggestion 
in regard to the journey? Does my proposition meet your 
approval ? ” 

“We will let the journey and everything relating to it 
rest until tomorrow; then, we will fully analyze all its 
bearings, as I came solely for that purpose,’’ said Violet. 
“Your pity, however, as regards the ^monotony’ of travel, 
I do not deserve, as I never spent a more agreeable day in 
the cars, in my life, thanks to my devoted companion, 
Lucy Bradley. That reminds me, she must feel neglected 
at my leaving her, a perfect stranger to the house, alone, 
so long.” 

“She is becoming settled by this time, I can assure you,” 
said Ruth. “I told Selma to lead her to your room, 
when you came in to see mamma, so you need have 
no fears for her loneliness.” Ruth felt amply re- 
warded for her forethought as she caught the smile of 
approval from her mother. 

Mrs. Arthurs could hardly refrain from staring at Violet 
Morriton. She was fascinated by the expression which 
caused the countenance to almost beam. She knew that 
Violet had undergone some change since she last met her; 
it was of pleasing import, she judged from the animated 
spirit which appeared to have taken possession of the 
radiant maiden. “I wonder if it is anything connected 
with Alan Stuart,” she mused. “Violet either wears his 
ring or another’s in its place, I feel convinced. * Whichever 
it is, she is happier than she has b#en for years. She seems 
to have strayed back to childhood and returned laden with 
its joys and anticipations. The bright glow of hope has 
intensified her marvellous beauty, making it as wondrous 
as a Venus from the hand of an ancient sculptor.” 

The evening passed swiftly by. “Why does time fly 
so fast, when we are happy ? ” asked Hilda, as Mrs. Arthurs 
suggested that the pleasant party had better separate till 
morning as it was growing so late. “When we are unhappy 
and wish it away, it simply drags ! I wonder why it is ! ” 


130 


OUT OF TUNE. 


‘‘A question which has often presented itself to older 
heads than yours, and one which the years will solve for 
you; I might truthfully say, almost before you wish, my 
dear,^’ answered the father, gazing fondly upon her. 

On the following morning after the domestic duties were 
turned into their accustomed grooves, Mrs. Arthurs and 
Violet seated themselves for a cozy chat. 

‘T am so glad, Vi, that you are not disturbed over the 
unavoidable change,” remarked Mrs. Arthurs, taking a 
tray-cloth from her work-basket, and beginning to trace the 
outlines. 

‘‘Why, Mary, have you not learned that ‘appearances 
are deceitful?’” retorted Violet. “You should have seen 
me yesterday, when I received your letter. I was like a 
minature ocean in a gale; disappointment surged through 
the heart like breakers upon a rocky coast. I concealed it, 
with Spartan bravery from all, except Unie. She, poor 
child, saw through my flimsy subterfuge, and suggested 
a better way; so, here I am, at your service, with Lucy as 
accessory. You will find her of valuable service, as she is 
very skilful with the needle; I thought she might be needed 
in the hurried preparations for leaving home.” 

“Thanks, dear Vi, I appreciate your kindness, and shall 
certainly call upon Lucy to aid. But, it grieves me greatly 
to disappoint you, just at the last moment, and I wish it 
could be otherwise. Yet, you have come at a most appor- 
tune moment. It is providential. I am expecting Mrs. 
Moreland to visit me shortly, and remain a few days. You 
see, Vi, dear, that an unforeseen opportunity will present 
itself. If you wish, you can consult her yourself and make 
any arrangement you think best. How fortunate it is!” 
said Mrs. Arthurs, a smile of satisfaction stealing over her 
face. 

Violet leaned back in her chair convulsed with laughter. 
“‘Providential!’” she reiterated; “what you can see ‘provi- 
dential,’ in any such arrangement completely baffles me! 
‘Providential’ for me to fellowship Bee Moreland! It is 


OUT OF TUNE. 


as absurd as it is impracticable! I never aspired to be an 
apiarist, and become acquainted with the habits of the 
insect model. Yet, in deference to your wishes, I will not 
shrink from the impending affliction, but remain and watch 
the wary creature,’^ she added, hoping to relieve Mrs. 
Arthurs from all anxiety. 

Thank you, Vi, for the decision. I am confident it 
can be arranged, with satisfaction to both,” she said, bend- 
ing over a rose-petal. 

‘‘How strange it is, that I am to encounter the very person 
whom I have avoided, so many years! If I did not know 
to the contrary, I should say that you and Unie had led 
me into an ambush; but, as I came voluntarily, I see no 
intrigue. Your minds run in the same channel, and, from 
a psychological standpoint, it may be interesting to study 
the result of this event, and determine how far co-operative 
influence extends; though I must admit that I do not desire 
to be a passive subject, acting under another's will,” 
asserted Violet. 

While Mrs. Arthurs and Violet were engaged in discussing 
the future, Ruth and Hilda were busy in completing the 
arrangements for an evening reception. Lucy^s proffered 
aid had been kindly accepted; she decorated the drawing 
room most artistically with asparagus ferns and carnation 
pinks. 

“It looks awfully sweet,” said Ruth; “just like a fairy’s 
bower. You are such a treasure, Lucy, perhaps you might 
add to our programme. I have already invited Aunt Violet 
to favor us with a few selections, and she has consented. 
Now, if you could give a little variation, it would be just too 
nice for anything; wouldn’t it, Hilda?” Without perceiv- 
ing Hilda’s nod of assent, she continued, “Do you sing or 
play, or do anything out of the ordinary?” 

“O, no. Miss Arthurs!” replied Lucy. “I neither sing 
nor play. I am only a common-place individual, with no 
special talent. Sometimes I have read in our country 
exhibitions, simply to fill out. Sister Fannie thinks I should 


132 


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attend the School of Oratory and speaks of great possibili- 
ties, when her ^ship comes in.’ But I have no faith in such 
visions, as it is beyond the reach of the Bradley family,” 
added Lucy, with a sigh. 

‘^Fannie Bradley!” exclaimed Hilda. ‘^Did your sister 
Fannie attend Wellesley? Does she live in Connecticut? 
And did you ever hear her speak of Hilda Arthurs? Tell 
me! I wonder if it is my Fannie Bradley!” 

think I may safely answer all your questions in the 
affirmative. Miss Arthurs,” answered Lucy, smilingly. 
‘‘Fannie has told us all about you, and her pleasant visit 
at Oakhurst for a few days. I had forgotten the name 
until your questions recalled the incident.” 

“Dear, little Fannie, how neglected she must feel!” 
ejaculated Hilda. “I have entirely allowed her to drop 
from my life during the last three years! The poor dear! 
“While abroad, I was so engrossed with study that I had 
no correspondence outside of home. And Fannie is so 
proud, I know she would not advance one step, for fear of 
intrusion. I will make amends for neglect at the first 
opportunity. You must tell me everything concerning 
her, later on. I know you will not only confer a favor, but 
honor us, by taking a part, if she indorses you. Now, what 
will you favor us with ? ” 

“Anything which you may desire, if Miss Morriton con- 
sents. She may not wish her companion to participate 
in the same entertainment that she does,” said Lucy. 

“Do not fear,” said Hilda. “I will ascertain at once, 
and let you know. I see “pride is a family characteristic 
of the Bradleys. You and Ruth can be making a selection, 
during my absence.” 

Hilda soon returned, and reported that Aunt Violet was 
delighted to know that she had a companion who possessed 
such a talent and promised herself much pleasure in her 
‘at homes,’ in the future. “Now, Lucy, what have you 
and Ruth decided upon?” she asked. “Is it pathetic, 
dramatic, or comical?” 


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133 


‘We never mentioned the subject during your absence/^ 
frankly admitted Ruth. “I kept Lucy busy answering 
questions about her home and surroundings. We can 
decide better, I should judge, with you.” 

“Allow me to suggest,” said Lucy modestly. “For a 
parlor entertainment, something pathetic would be appro- 
priate. I could give the ‘Rock of Ages,’ or the ‘Last 
Hymn ; ’ either of which is made quite effective with a piano 
obligato. It is immaterial to me; and if such a thing as 
an encore were required, something mirthful would not be 
out of place, like ‘Aunt Jerusha’s visit to the theatre.’” 

“Then let it be ‘The Last Hymn,’” said Hilda. “It is 
mamma’s favorite; we will surprise her to-night with it. 
Ruth can accompany you, as she has less to do than I have. 
You had better rehearse a little, and I will see that no one 
interrupts.” 

“Mamma, do you remember sweet, little Fannie Brad- 
ley?” asked Hilda, as she entered the room. 

“Certainly I do!” responded Mrs. Arthurs. “Why do 
you ask, when you know that I could never forget one of 
my favorites! I was wondering quite recently what had 
become of her.” 

“Lucy accidently mentioned that she was her sister,” 
replied Hilda. Imagine my surprise. I wanted to ask 
her all abdut Fannie, then, but refrained, we were so busy 
about the evening’s entertainment.” 

“Well, Hilda, there is an old saying, ‘One good turn 
deserves another;’ perhaps I can turn about and give you 
the necessary information concerning your friend,” said 
Violet. 

“On our way here, Lucy, at my invitation, gave a full 
account of her sister’s life which I will give you, as nearly 
as I can.” She related the incidents which had been fur- 
nished, accurately; and mother and daughter expressed 
their sympathy at Fannie’s misfortune. “Perhaps,” she 
concluded, “I have done wrong in sending her anything 
like money, as there is so much independence in the family. 


134 


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Though she may be induced to retain it, as I represented 
it as an equivalent in lieu of certain pictures, which she was 
to execute for me. I did not wish her to be indebted to 
me, for I despise anything pertaining to it.’^ 

“How thoughtful you were. Aunt Violet. A kindness 
to Fannie is like one bestowed upon me,” said Hilda. “Do 
you think it would do mamma, for me to pay her a short 
visit when Lucy goes?” 

“Certainly, my dear!” assented the mother. “It may 
prove beneficial, in her present condition. You have many 
long-standing invitations, and understand perfectly the 
situation of the Bradleys.” 

“It appears, Violet, as though you had been ‘entertain- 
ing an angel unawares,’” said Mrs. Arthurs, turning to her 
friend, “or had been acting unconsciously the part of the 
good Samaritan.” 

“Whichever way it is,” remarked Hilda, “I realize that 
Ruth and I are the ones most favored; we have received 
two fine acquisitions for our ‘at home.’” 

“I coincide with your sentiments, as far as they relate to 
your appropriation. The other part remains to be proven. 
You certainly showed wisdom in securing us at once, and 
I trust we may not mar the evening’s pleasure, with a false 
note. What a pity the ‘Busy Bee’ is not here to give a 
brilliant rendition of the love-sick damsel!” said Violet 
sarcastically. 

“Bees don’t sing, do they. Aunt Violet?” asked Hilda, 
with innocent mirth. “I have never heard them do any- 
thing beyond a buzz!” 

“Excuse me, please, Mary,” said Violet apologetically. 
“The Bee to whom I refer does, or did once upon a time.” 

“Whom do you mean ? ” she queried. “ Mrs. Moreland ? 
I can promise you that if she should arrive before the 
last moment, I certainly shall press her into service.” 

“You perceive my meaning, and will note that she is not 
only one of the buzzing Bees, but one of humming kind. 
Invite her to sing, by all means, as it may prevent her from 


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135 

whizzing around into my affairs. Pardon my satire, Mary. 
I will not corrupt Hilda with my dislikes.’’ 

The unexpected always takes us by surprise. The 
family were partaking of an early tea, when Mrs. Moreland 
arrived, causing great confusion. 

As soon as the commotion attending her arrival had 
subsided, she turned to greet the members of the house- 
hold. “Dear Mary, how delighted I am to see you! How 
well you are looking!” she exclaimed, kissing her. “You 
dear girls, how sweet you are,” giving each a little kiss. 
Turning to the father, she cried, “And you, dear Doctor, 
how glad I am to see you;” she paused lest she might in her 
enthusiastic greeting, bestow the impressive salutation 
which she had given to the others. 

“O, excuse me, Violet, I did not notice you before!” 
she said, extending her hand, for a friendly clasp. She 
stood somewhat in awe of Violet Morriton, and did not 
dare to proffer a caress, lest it might be refused. 

The evening’s entertainment was one of great success. 
The additional numbers contributed much to the already 
excellent programme. Miss Morriton gave several selec- 
tions with much favor. Mrs. Moreland sang very accepta- 
bly, though a little affected. But, Lucy Bradley fairly 
carried her audience by storm. She read not only one 
piece, but four in order to satisfy her hearers. The “Last 
Hymn” for the first selection was received so enthusiasti- 
cally, she was obliged respond with an encore. The same 
reception greeted her second appearance. The sweet little 
lady, with her versatile powers, became a great favorite 
with the whole company. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

The Hand of Fate. 

Violet Morriton awoke the next morning, after a rest- 
less night. ^‘Strange!’’ she mused, ‘Hhat I should meet 
Bee Moreland, after so many years! It seems as though 
the hand of fate had planned it; resentment is useless I 
must submit and make the best of it. There is one consola- 
tion, however, forewarned is forearmed,’ so I shall have 
no fears. Still I must always be on guard, lest she catches 
me off duty. I cannot help the feeling that I am always 
in the presence of a cat, when I am near her. She looks so 
innocent and harmless, lying like a cherished kitten, sleek 
and smooth, softly purring with her head upon her velvet 
paws. A perfect type of contentment, till some unwary 
object comes near when sharp claws protrude from the soft 
cushions, and seize its victim, without even a change of 
position. All the time, you will find that it has been de- 
ceiving you; though apparently absorbed, it was watchful 
of everything passing by, or even going on. In spite of 
Mary’s defense I cannot rid myself of the simile. I think I 
will keep on the defensive and be prepared for any attack 
from her. How absurd to imagine that I could ever take 
her for a confidant. I think I will study her, in the new 
role of widowhood; it may prove intensely interesting.” 

The faithful old clock in the hall rang out the morning 
hours with seven distinct strokes, interrupting Violet’s 
reverie; she saw that she must arise, at once, to be in readi- 
ness for breakfast. Hurrying through her preparations 
she joined the family incased with an unpenetrable armor 
which she felt could neither be pierced by the curiosity of 
friends nor the strategy of foes. 

Mrs. Moreland had been similarly occupied during her 
wakeful moments. She had been holding sweet commun- 
ion with self. It was a pleasing occupation, but, at this 


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137 


time, it proved to be more interesting than usual. Violet 
Morriton was the subject under consideration. She was 
in such a deep study that a little frown had crept stealthily 
upon the brow, when the grim sentry of time, warning of 
the passing hours, put an end to her cogitations. 

Bounding from the couch, she ran eagerly to the mirror 
to see if the frown had left its impress upon her forehead. 
She found no wrinkle a-fter a most vigorous search, but for 
fear that it might make its appearance when not desired, 
she carefully massaged the face, bestowing several soft, 
smoothing pats upon the brow. 

Mrs. Moreland had learned a valuable lesson from con- 
sulting her mirror. She learned that frowns, not only 
disfigured the features for the time being, but marred their 
beauty afterwards, by leaving wrinkles. Accordingly, she 
kept the closest vigilance over herself and prohibited these 
unwelcomed notes of time from intruding upon her domains. 
She learned that ‘‘self-preservation was the first law of 
nature,’^ and mapped out her whole life upon that knowl- 
edge. She cultivated a sweet and cheerful disposition, as 
the best means of retaining her good looks. Being naturally 
of a quick and irritable temper, she had found it difficult 
at first, to preserve an even manner. But as time passed on, 
she reached the desired goal, in spite of the unworthy 
motive. She was wiser than her many friends, who knew 
the truth, but did not consider it of sufficient importance 
to heed. 

The persistent discipline which Mrs. Moreland exercised 
moulded her character so effectively that she was spoken of 
as “one of the most charming ladies.’’ She had reached a 
happy quiescent state, and was considered one of society’s 
beauties and favorites. 

The meeting with Violet Morriton had awakened memo- 
ries of the former years, when she had refused all the kindly 
offers of friendship. Now, she felt that although the times 
were changed, she should never succeed in gaining her con- 
fidence. She was satisfied that Violet had seen through 


OUT OF TUNE. 


138 

her youthful attempts to gain favor, and would attribute 
any present advances to the same source. So,’’ she mused, 
while dressing, will not make any; I will wait for an 
opportunity’; if one comes, I shall not hesitate to take it, 
even if it chills me, as much as the majestic maiden herself 
does. Imagine calling such a splendid woman, as she is, 
‘Violet!’ How absurd!” Beatrice laughed at her own 
amusement, and like Violet, joined the family with the 
same intention. 

“Violet!” said Mrs. Arthurs rising from the breakfast 
table, I wish you and Beatrice would consider yourselves 
at liberty to roam about wherever you choose. Ruth and 
I will be engaged a short time this morning, and will join 
you later on, in the library.” 

Hilda took the ladies to the library and entertained them 
with a fine collection of pictures which she had secured 
when in Europe. Violet was greatly interested in the Ger- 
man building which possessed such marvellous preserving 
powers. 

“It seems to come from certain conditions of the earth 
and atmosphere in that section,” said Beatrice. “ Mortimer, 
Mother Moreland and I visited there many times, when we 
were in the city. The strangest things, to me, were the 
little canaries in their cages. They looked so lifelike, I 
should not have been surprised if they had hopped about 
and poured out a flood of melody!” 

“Were you there long, Beatrice?” inquired Violet. 

“O, yes!” eagerly replied Beatrice. “We were in that 
vicinity three or four months. You see Mort and his mother 
did not care to rush about in traveling. When we found a 
pleasant and agreeable place, we made quite a sojourn 
there; studied the customs of the people, their history, 
authentic and legendary. Mort was — But, excuse me, I 
will not bore you, with the Moreland peculiarities.” 

“Do continue!” pleaded Hilda. “How nice it must 
have been for you to remain as long as you wished in a 
place. I was only allowed one day in this quaint old 


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139 

mysterious place. I was so closely engaged with my studies 
that I had very little time for recreation.’’ 

^^So was I, ” asserted Beatrice with a solemn air. ‘‘I was 
studying, also, but, I had plenty of time for recreation, 
and stumbled upon many interesting things.” She stopped 
as she saw the smile of incredulity flitting across the faces 
of her listeners. 

Please explain yourself. Bee,” said Violet. thought 
you were spending your honeymoon in Europe, not learning 
the languages. ” 

^‘Yes, I was,” responded Beatrice ambiguously. ‘T 
was doing both. My husband was always a student. That 
is, he spent a portion of each day among his books. Through 
his kindness and loving care, I became interested, and look 
upon those hours spent in study, as some of the happiest 
in my whole life. ” Mrs. Moreland seemed lost in a pleasant 
meditation, a few moments. A bright smile illumined her 
countenance, making it radiant with reflective joy. 

Violet and Hilda noticed her meditative mood, and 
waited patiently for her to resume the fascinating story. 
‘‘How strange!” thought Violet, “that she can speak so 
calmly of one w^hom she loved so well! What an anomaly 
she is! One would think she had no heart, when she speaks 
of ‘Mort,’ so naturally, and yet, her very soul seems satisfied 
with the brightness of his memories. How impossible 
it would be for me to make the object of my departed joys 
a subject for a morning’s conversation! However, it is 
consoling to find her not as rattle-headed as I, at first, 
imagined. What a task the Benedict must have under- 
taken! Yet, I find, even myself interested in spite of 
prejudice.” 

Beatrice, in the midst of her reflections, almost uncon- 
sciously began watching Violet. “What a superb woman 
she is!” she mused. What a pity she never married! I 
wonder why the engagement with Alan Stuart was broken! 
She still wears his ring, I am sure, after all these years, so 
she must care for him. Perhaps, I may be the means of 


140 


OUT OF TUNE. 


bringing them together again! ‘^Who knows! One thing, 
I will be very careful not to disclose the relationship existing 
between Mort and Alan.’’ She laughed aloud in the exu- 
berance of her joy over the secret, and meeting the inquiring 
looks, continued her story. 

‘‘You see, my ignorance began to dawn upon Mort 
shortly after our marriage. I was reading aloud to his 
mother one morning when I completely tripped over a 
common French phrase. I gave it such an outrageous 
pronunciation, that it nearly convulsed me. Mort was 
writing, but he had heard the mistake, and joined in our 
merriment. We were on board the steamer, on our bridal 
trip, bound for Europe. Mother Moreland wished to 
remain with friends during our absence, but we would 
not allow it. Why I never would have known her son, if it 
had not been for her! Everyone loved her! I don’t think 
I could have loved Mort if he had not loved his mother so 
much. He had watched over her welfare, since his father’s 
death, and I had no intention of interrupting their happiness. 
Accordingly, she accompanied us, and I flatter myself that 
I added just a mite to their enjoyment, while they lived. 
How sad, they could not remain, when we were all so happy. 
Pardon my digression, I will try to make amends. As soon 
as the laugh over my egregious mistake had died away, 
Mort looked at me and remarked, ‘I see. Bee, your French 
has become a little rusty, not only in tone but in quantity!’ 

“‘It has,’ I replied; ‘what would you advise me to do 
about it?’ I innocently asked, little dreaminjg what the 
question would bring forth. 

“‘Just brighten it up a little, with my assistance,’ he 
answered, as delighted as though he had found some rare 
pearl amid the shallows of my education. 

“I was startled greatly over the suggestion, till I found 
that he only wished me to read and converse a little while 
with him, each morning. I found it very fascinating, and 
soon fell into his manner of speaking a pure Parisian French. 
Learning of my ignorance of the German language, he 


OUT OF TUNE. 


141 

suggested teaching me in the same easy, conversational way. 
I demurred at first, as I thought I could never learn to like 
the harsh, guttural sounds. Mort told me I would not find 
them so, when I had mastered the language. I consented 
to the plan, and found it as he had said, sweet and agreeable. 
We were free from sea-sickness, and had much time at our 
disposal. By the time we reached the other side, I knew 
enough of both languages to speak them, moderately, if not 
fluently. 

“I had always supposed that wealthy people could do 
just what they chose, till Mort informed me to the contrary. 
He said that being rich gave him greater responsibilities; 
he had large philanthropical ideas for mankind, and inter- 
ested himself in every good work within his vicinity, saying 
it was our bounden duty to assist the weary and lighten 
their heavy burdens. 

^‘Sometime, I would like to tell you how, when, and where 
I met Mort. There’s quite a romance connected with it. 
But here comes Mary and Ruth, and I will postpone all 
further biography.” 

Don’t let us interrupt your pleasant story,” said Mrs. 
Arthurs. know it has been entertaining from your 
betraying looks. Proceed, please, and we will listen also. 
You will not mind if I take up this work, I know, when I 
tell you, it is for a bazaar, or sale, which the King’s Daugh- 
ters will hold in the Fall, in aid of the Old Ladies’ Home. 
Ruth and Hilda solicited my aid, and I devote my spare 
moments to the worthy object.” 

Wouldn’t you like me to do something for you, girls?” 
asked Beatrice. would like to crochet something. 
What would you like?” 

anything from an infant’s sack to an old lady’s 
hood!” answered Ruth. ‘‘We do not know of anything 
yet in that line.” 

“Then I will begin with a little sack for a baby. I love 
to do them, and can work better when I talk. Please 
bring your basket of wools, and I will select something 
suitable.” 


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OUT OF TUNE. 


bringing them together again! “Who knows! One thing, 
I will be very careful not to disclose the relationship existing 
between Mort and Alan.’’ She laughed aloud in the exu- 
berance of her joy over the secret, and meeting the inquiring 
looks, continued her story. 

“You see, my ignorance began to dawm upon Mort 
shortly after our marriage. I was reading aloud to his 
mother one morning when I completely tripped over a 
common French phrase. I gave it such an outrageous 
pronunciation, that it nearly convulsed me. Mort was 
writing, but he had heard the mistake, and joined in our 
merriment. We were on board the steamer, on our bridal 
trip, bound for Europe. Mother Moreland wished to 
remain with friends during our absence, but we would 
not allow it. Why I never would have known her son, if it 
had not been for her! Everyone loved her! I don’t think 
I could have loved Mort if he had not loved his mother so 
much. He had watched over her welfare, since his father’s 
death, and I had no intention of interrupting their happiness. 
Accordingly, she accompanied us, and I flatter myself that 
I added just a mite to their enjoyment, while they lived. 
How sad, they could not remain, when we were all so happy. 
Pardon my digression, I will try to make amends. As soon 
as the laugh over my egregious mistake had died away, 
Mort looked at me and remarked, T see. Bee, your French 
has become a little rusty, not only in tone but in quantity!’ 

“Tt has,’ I replied; ‘what would you advise me to do 
about it?’ I innocently asked, little dreaming what the 
question would bring forth. 

“‘Just brighten it up a little, with my assistance,’ he 
answered, as delighted as though he had found some rare 
pearl amid the shallows of my education. 

“I was startled greatly over the suggestion, till I found 
that he only wished me to read and converse a little while 
with him, each morning. I found it very fascinating, and 
soon fell into his manner of speaking a pure Parisian French. 
Learning of my ignorance of the German language, he 


OUT OF TUNE. 


141 

suggested teaching me in the same easy, conversational way. 
I demurred at first, as I thought I could never learn to like 
the harsh, guttural sounds. Mort told me I would not find 
them so, when I had mastered the language. I consented 
to the plan, and found it as he had said, sweet and agreeable. 
We were free from sea-sickness, and had much time at our 
disposal. By the time we reached the other side, I knew 
enough of both languages to speak them, moderately, if not 
fluently. 

‘‘I had always supposed that wealthy people could do 
just what they chose, till Mort informed me to the contrary. 
He said that being rich gave him greater responsibilities; 
he had large philanthropical ideas for mankind, and inter- 
ested himself in every good work within his vicinity, saying 
it was our bounden duty to assist the weary and lighten 
their heavy burdens. 

“Sometime, I would like to tell you how, when, and where 
I met Mort. There’s quite a romance connected with it. 
But here comes Mary and Ruth, and I will postpone all 
further biography.” 

“Don’t let us interrupt your pleasant story,” said Mrs. 
Arthurs. “I know it has been entertaining from your 
betraying looks. Proceed, please, and we will listen also. 
You will not mind if I take up this work, I know, when I 
tell you, it is for a bazaar, or sale, which the King’s Daugh- 
ters will hold in the Fall, in aid of the Old Ladies’ Home. 
Ruth and Hilda solicited my aid, and I devote my spare 
moments to the worthy object.” 

“Wouldn’t you like me to do something for you, girls?” 
asked Beatrice. “I would like to crochet something. 
What would you like?” 

“O, anything from an infant’s sack to an old lady’s 
hood!” answered Ruth. “We do not know of anything 
yet in that line.” 

“Then I will begin with a little sack for a baby. I love 
to do them, and can work better when I talk. Please 
bring your basket of wools, and I will select something 
suitable.” 


142 


OUT OF TUNE. 


“We will accede to your request upon one condition, and 
that is, that you resume your interesting narrative,^’ said 
Hilda. 

“Agreed! ’’ responded Mrs. Moreland. “It will be better 
that way, as my work might awaken sad memories.’^ 

They w'ondered at her meaning, but contented themselves 
with the feeling that she would explain the reference, if she 
wished them to know. 

Ruth and Hilda brought in their store of wools, and a 
selection was made for three little jackets; one in white, 
one in pink, and one in blue. 

“How kind of you, Mrs. Moreland, to assist us!’’ ex- 
claimed Ruth. “What can we do for you?” 

“You might call me Aunt Bee, instead of the formal Mrs. 
Moreland; it would sound more homelike.” 

“We will. Aunt Bee!” said Hilda, bestowing a kiss upon 
the surprised w^oman. “We would truly like you for an 
Aunt!” 

Violet Morriton was astonished to learn that Beatrice 
Moreland was so far from what she had pictured her. She 
attributed the change to the influence of marriage. “It 
certainly must have redeemed her good points. Probably 
Mary saw the hidden possibilities, and admired, while I 
saw only the glaring defects of an intriguing girl, and de- 
tested. It she wears a mask, it is so transparent, one can 
easily detect her motives. In point of fact, I should name 
frankness as her crowning virtue. I must watch, or she 
will insinuate herself into my good graces, and I shall ask 
her to accompany me on that long-talked-of journey, before 
I am aware of it. If I had not known her to be deceptive in 
former days, I should place the utmost confidence in her 
marvellous reminiscences. With these warnings of the 
past ringing through the brain, I cannot help taking all her 
sayings well-seasoned,” she thought. “Her ingenuity 
excelled her powers of dissimulation. How clearly that 
little scene in regard to the new gown presents itself! We 
were all expected to act and look the nicest possible, at an 


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143 


exhibition given by the pupils of our seminary. Nearly 
every one had provided a new robe for the great occasion, 
unless it was Beatrice; she informed us, she should be 
obliged to wear the same old one. Yet, when the antici- 
pated event took place, no one was more daintily arranged 
in an exquisite India lawn, than Bee Moreland. ‘What 
a lovely new gown’’ cried the girls in chorus. ‘O, I have 
had this so long it seems quite passe’ said Bee. Some 
believed the statement; others saw through her design. 
I heard one call her a ‘b.eautiful fabricator.’ She told 
Mary that it was an old gown her mother had worn before 
her marriage. It had been altered for her, and made very 
tasty with a few ribbons. I really think if she had been the 
wife of Ananias, she would have discovered some outlet in 
regard to the price kept back. She would have represented 
that they had disposed of the land on the installment plan, 
or had taken a mortgage. She certainly would have tried 
to prove that they had turned in all the money received. 

“Nevertheless, I am strangely interested in the marriage 
episode. Imagine a bride learning French and German, 
on a bridal trip! I should believe that impossible, had I 
not known a similar proposition to an intended bride 1 
Thinking of Alan reminds me that Mortimer Moreland 
must have resembled him in many ways. I am as eager as 
the others to hear the incidents of the Moreland trio. In 
some unaccountable way, the narrative seems to bring me 
nearer to Alan. I suppose from presenting to view the 
places which I have associated with him.” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

Moreland Memories. 

‘‘When are you going to tell us the romance, Aunt Bee ? 
asked Ruth, as there was a lull in the general conversation. 

“Any time you wish,’’ answered Beatrice. “Now, if it 
is agreeable, though I think I am very impolite to monopo- 
lize all the conversation.” 

“We will consider you free from any breach of etiquette, 
Beatrice, and awak your pleasure in entertaining,” said 
Mrs. Arthurs. “I have never heard the story, so it will be 
equally interesting to all.” 

“I will accede to your wishes, on one condition,” said 
Mrs. Moreland; “that is, if the monologue becomes too 
tiresome you will excuse me from continuing it.” 

“Once, upon a time, as the story-tellers would say, there 
lived a little girl named Bee. She was the idol of the house- 
hold, and all its inmates rendered her the homage of a 
queen. Five older brothers, and even a younger one, strove 
with each other to gratify every wish, and she became a 
selfish little sovereign. The parents were poor; but they 
tried to shield the loved one from the adverse winds, and 
bestowed luxuries far beyond their station. The child 
loved only the fair and beautiful, and despised the dark 
and gloomy. She lived among the bloom, flitting about in 
the sunshine, from flower to flower, like a bee, extract- 
ing sweets. They called her the ‘ Busy Bee, ’ as she roamed 
about at her own sweet will, culling the fairest and sweetest 
blossoms. 

“Aunt Ellie petted the child, giving her the vacant place 
which her own little daughter had held. I give you all 
these minute details that you may understand more clearly. 
Aunt Ellie, mamma’s only sister, lived in Maine, near a 
fashionable summer resort. Her home was a large old- 
fashioned New England farm house. It contained sixteen 


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I4S 


rooms, having originally been built for two families. It 
had been in the Smith family for years, and had fallen into 
the hands of its present owner. Will Smith, Aunt Elbe’s 
husband, about the time of his marriage. 

‘‘Aunt Elbe, with true Yankee thrift, opened her home 
for summer boarders. The scheme was successful. She 
cleared the old home of the mortgage, and laid by some- 
thing for a rainy day. She paid my school expenses, at the 
best seminaries, stipulating that I should spend part of 
my vacations with her. The old home was filled every 
season, and I made many friends among the guests. I 
helped her entertain sometimes by singing or playing. 

“Four years ago, this coming summer, when I arrived 
at the dear old place, I found a lady whom they called Mrs. 
Moreland. I fell in love with her at once, and strange to 
say the attraction was mutual. She was very delicate, and 
spent much time out of doors. The son, who had accom- 
panied her, was detained on important business, in Boston. 
He had committed the little mother to Auntie’s care during 
his absence, asking her to watch very carefully that she 
might not mourn for him while away. After I came, I 
relieved Aunt Elbe of the responsibility. I assumed it all, 
and found it a pleasing occupation. We spent most of the 
time together. When the weather permitted, we stayed 
out of doors; either on the piazza, in easy chairs, or in 
hammocks, on the shady lawn. I brought her the choicest 
fruits the place afforded, and she reciprocating, described 
the foreign places which she had visited, so beautifully 
that I was enraptured. How I did wish that I was rich, 
in order that I might travel, and see all the charming sights, 
and wonders of the Orient! How nice it would be to wear 
diamonds and silks every day! It would be just like fairy- 
land! I thought the nicest of all would be to have all the 
money I wanted to spend; then I should not feel sorry for 
what I had spent and wish I had done differently. 

“One morning, Mrs. Moreland and I were on the lawn; 
she was reclining in the hammock, I was sitting near by 


146 


OUT OF TUNE. 


on a camp stool, reading to her, from one of Rosa Nouchette 
Carey’s books. In the midst of a sentence we were inter- 
rupted by some one exclaiming, ‘Well, Ivy Vine, what 
little tot have you here ? ’ 

“The mother helped the delusion by answering, ‘O, a 
little Bee has flown into the hive, and improves the shining 
hours by gathering honey for me.’ 

“We laughed at the simile, and Mrs. Moreland hastened 
to make amends by saying, ‘ Excuse me, Beatrice, and per- 
mit me to present my son, Mortimer, to you. Miss Somers, 
Mr. Moreland.’ 

“I rose with all my offended dignity; if my outraged 
feelings could have risen, I should have been six feet in 
stature. I acknowledged the introduction, and met one of 
the noblest men that ever breathed. I thought mother and 
son might wish to see each other alone, and turned to depart, 
when Mr. Moreland objected. 

“‘Miss Somers,’ he said, ‘you must forgive me for taking 
you for a little girl! You certainly did look like one, with 
your curls hanging around your shoulders as I approached; 
but do not deprive my mother of your company, as I would 
like to go to my room, and part with the dust of travel.’ 
He bowed and departed, before I could utter a dissenting 
word. 

“It was a case of mutual deception. He had taken me 
for a child, while I had considered him an over-grown 
boy! ‘Why, Mrs. Moreland, I never imagined your son 
was so old ! I thought he might possibly be a young college 
student; but I find a man older than I am, and really, he 
looks older than his mother!’ I said. 

“‘You know, my dear, appearances are often deceitful,’ 
remarked Mrs. Moreland, with a laugh. ‘ I am older than 
I look, while Mortimer is younger. I am only sixteen 
years his senior, and he seems more like a brother, than a 
son. My invalid ways have made me so dependent, that 
I rely upon him for protection. When his father died, 
some five years ago, he had just completed the preparations 


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147 


necessary for a missionary. He immediately laid aside 
his plans, and devoted himself to my welfare. I accepted 
his sacrifice willingly, at first; then I remonstrated with 
him, for allowing me to become so selfish as to deprive him 
from following his chosen vocation. I never shall forget 
his answer. ‘You dear, clinging Ivy-Vine, you have twined 
your tendrils of love so closely around my heart, that I 
could not leave you, if I would! Rest assured, that you 
are dearer to me, than all the souls in far-off India! Do 
you think I should be doing the Master’s service, when I 
knew a loved one was pining for me in the old home ? He 
has given me a mission, to watch over you, which I accept 
as graciously as I would one which carried me thousands 
of miles away. Indeed, we sometimes find it harder to 
perform the work nearby, than that which lies farther away, 
I am satisfied with either, though I must state, that life 
with you will be far more agreeable than elsewhere.’ 

“‘My fears were banished by his reasoning, and the 
subject has never been mentioned since. Through his 
care, life has been brighter and happier than I ever sup- 
posed it could be. ’ 

“Mr. Moreland soon returned and seated himself near 
his mother. He expressed his thanks for the care which I 
had given her, during his absence. One could easily 
recognize the firm bond of love existing between them, by 
the silent, unobtrusive watch which he constantly exercised 
over her. 

“I found him very entertaining. His pleasant conver- 
sation, mingled with a rare fund of humor, kept us so 
deeply interested that the summons to dinner made us 
aware of the flight of time. I had been so absorbed in 
listening to the wonderful description of places and people, 
that I had forgotten my previous intention of leaving them. 
Reminded of my remissness by the dinner bell, I apologized. 
He said that my presence had been an added pleasure to 
the morning’s enjoyment. 

“ After satisfying our physical needs in a most substantial 


148 


OUT OF TUNE. 


manner, he invited us to an afternoon^s drive. We 
took a winding road beside the river to a lovely little place 
which boasted of a country inn. The day was delightful 
and cool; the air, mild and fragrant with the breath of 
summer flowers. Its exhilarating influence increased the 
buoyancy of our spirits, till we forgot the cares and worries 
of life. 

‘‘The days passed on in the same joyous manner, until 
six weeks had gone since the arrival of Mortimer Moreland. 
He was intending to remain only two weeks longer. In 
the early Fall he would take his mother abroad, and spend 
the Winter in the southern part of France. The announce- 
ment was made one morning. It came upon me as sud- 
denly as a thunderbolt. I had been so happy that I never 
thought of such a trial as separation. I excused myself 
with the plea of writing home-letters, and went to my room 
for that purpose. After trying for some time ineffectually, 
I put it off till I felt more in the mood. Taking a book 
which lay near by, I wandered to an old summer-house 
which stood in the lower part of the grounds, unobserved, 
as I thought. I sat down, opened the book without looking, 
and began thinking. 

“‘What had come to me,’ I wondered, ‘to make me feel 
so out of sorts with everybody, and everything. Had I, 
like a silly moth flown too near and singed my wings in the 
Moreland light ? ’ 

“Before I could answer the question, I was startled by 
the voice of Mortimer Moreland, asking, ‘ What fascinating 
book engages you, so deeply that you have deserted us? 
What is it ? ’ 

“‘I am sure, I don’t know!’ I answered; ‘I took it up 
as I came out, without glancing at the title.’ I looked at 
the book and found I had been holding it upside down. 
We both laughed at the incident, and especially at the title, 
‘Advice to Young Ladies.’ 

“Mr. Moreland stood outside of the summer-house, 
leaning his folded arms upon a surrounding rail, not far 
from my seat. 


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149 


‘‘‘Miss Somers/ said he, ‘I have intruded upon your 
privacy to ask you a most important question; one which 
concerns our future welfare.’ 

“I nodded assent, thinking he was about to make the 
proposition that I should become a companion to his mother. 
But I was nearly startled out of my wits when he asked me, 
if I would be his wife. He waited for an answer, while I 
sat staring in bewilderment out upon the distant fields. 
After a time I met his glance, and saw in his eyes that which 
I could not resist, even had I wished. I will not weary you 
with all the details, or sweet little sayings. I was happier 
than I had ever dreamed of being in this world. In fact, 
it all seemed like a dream, from which I prayed not to awake. 

“ Our engagement was a surprise to no one, except myself. 
Uncle Will and Aunt Ellie had seen it from the first. What 
Mort could see necessary for his happiness in such an in- 
significant little creature as I was, I could not imagine! 

“He said he was first attracted by the lavish praise which 
his mother bestowed upon me. Afterwards, his curiosity 
was displaced by a deeper interest. He had never thought 
of marrying before. He supposed he could accomplish his 
mission in life better as a single man. After his father’s 
death, he had decided to devote himself to the care of his 
mother, and allow no one to come between them. He felt 
that our marriage, instead of severing the bond, would 
cement it more firmly. 

“And I know that it did. Do you wonder that I could 
help loving Mother Moreland so much, when she gave me 
the most precious object she possessed, her only son? Con- 
trast the difference between her and the others who would 
keep an only son dangling at their apron strings 1 

“We tried to arrange matters pertaining to our marriage, 
with Mrs. Moreland and Aunt Ellie. Mort said he would 
like to be married at the end of the month, in the sweet, 
rustic spot, if it was agreeable to me. 

“I objected, at first, it gave so short a time, for a bride 
o prepare her trousseau. Finally, I consented to their 


OUT OF TUNE. 


ISO 

united persuasion. Aunt Ellie was delighted and helped 
Mort to gain his way in every proposition. She said she 
would take charge of everything. She had always intended 
to give me my bridal outfit, and I could have the quilts, 
bedding and table-linen tomorrow, if I wished. She was 
as good as her word. She called in a most efficient woman, 
Ann Maria Jones, who could turn her hand to anything. 

“Aunt Ellie and Mrs. Moreland entered into the prepara- 
tions with the zest of children. I was relieved from all care 
and anxiety. My time was at my own disposal after two 
hours in the morning, spent under the dressmaker’s hands. 

“The situation was so novel to me, that I hardly credited 
my surroundings. Just to think that I was having so many 
new things, without worrying about unpaid bills 1 Some- 
times I watched the proceedings, and like the old woman 
of the nursery rhymes, wonderingly asked, ‘Is it I?’ 

“My mamma came two weeks before the wedding and 
rejoiced with the others over the coming event. 

“The bridal day was ushered in by an auspicious dawn. 
The clear, blue sky bore no trace of fleecy clouds across its 
wide expanse. The sun rode forth in his glittering chariot, 
and awoke all nature with a rosy kiss. The occasion was 
made a gala day for the whole village. We were married 
in the country church. The news of a church wedding 
spread far and wide, as the saying goes, ‘like wildfire.’ 
Everybody I should think from a radius of ten miles came 
even several guests from the hotel. The young ladies of the 
society decorated the church beautifully with roses and 
ferns. 

“Two little flower-girls preceded us from the church door, 
up the aisle to the altar scattering flowers in our path, and 
unwinding white ribbon. It was symbolical of our future 
happiness. After the ceremony the little ones went out 
before us, in the same manner. I was walking out of the 
church, feeling fully the responsibility of my new position, 
and a little fearful of my ability to meet the requisite de- 
mands, when my fears were routed by a familiar strain 


OUT OF TUNE. 


151 

which the organist was sending forth in the beautiful melody 
of ^ Loghengrin’s Wedding March.’ So appealing was the 
music, that I could not refrain from casting a timid glance 
at the gallery to view the unknown performer, when lo and 
behold 1 I met the roguish and teasing face of my younger 
brother Rob, fully reflected in the mirror before him! The 
surprise deepened the tint upon my cheeks and he saw that 
he was recognized. Mamma told me that she and Mort 
had planned Rob’s presence as a surprise. 

^‘We returned to Aunt Elbe’s and held a reception from 
three till five, in the afternoon. Every one came who wished. 
We were informed that it was customary to serenade a 
newly-married pair, and submitted to the ordeal in the 
evening. Mort gave the band a check sufficient to defray 
the expenses of a new uniform. They extended a vote of 
thanks amid rousing cheers, and gave their best music for 
nearly two hours. Our collation for them consisted of 
cakes, ice cream, chicken-salad, lemonade and coffee. Mort 
told them he would not offer wine on the joyous occasion, 
as he did not believe in its use. The leader commended 
him for his noble principles, and said all men would be 
better, if they did not use it. 

^^The next morning we departed for Western Massachu- 
setts to Mortimer’s old home. We remained a short time, 
only sufficient for Mort to place his property in the hands of 
a competent person. He thought we might be absent two 
or three years, if we wished, and wanted everything properly 
attended to during his absence. 

‘^We sailed from New York on the fifteenth of Septem- 
ber, in one of the large ocean steamers of the Inman Line. 
It was the very day on which Mort had intended to depart 
before he thought of marrying. 

^‘I found, after my marriage, that my husband was very 
rich. And, strange to say, what I had formerly considered 
the necessary lever, with which to move the world, I now 
looked upon, as small and insignificant. My old restless, 
envious spirit seemed to have been banished, by the influence 


IS2 


OUT OF TUNE. 


of plenty. I found that I did not wish for the unat- 
tainable. It seemed as though my needs were anticipated, 
and provided for, before I even knew them myself. No 
one could help being happy in such a congenial atmos- 
phere.’’ 

Beatrice paused a few moments, and examined her work. 
‘‘I think the morning has nearly ended, and I will not 
weary you by continuing my story,” she added. 

‘‘O, Bee, you have not told us anything yet, about your 
stay on the other side!” said Violet. 

‘T have taken so much time, I could not conscientiously 
extend the Moreland Memories. But, if you desire it, I will 
tell you a few things about our foreign life, after dinner,” 
replied Bee. 

‘‘How nice it will be! ” remarked Ruth. 

“Yes, it is awfully sweet of you. Aunt Bee, to entertain 
us so beautifully, and promise another treat for the after- 
noon! How fortunate, that you came to Oakhurst!” said 
Hilda. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

The Mysterious Cousin Lan. 

At an early hour in the afternoon, the ladies at Oakhurst, 
assembled in the library to hear the continuation of Mrs. 
Moreland ^s story. 

have already told you of the manner in which we spent 
the time of the voyage. I found the study hours so pleasant, 
I was unwilling to drop them, after our landing. I told 
Mort, if he could bear with my ignorance, I would endeavor 
to learn what he thought best, provided it was not history. 
I could never remember dates, and I was too old to learn. 
Yet, strange, as it may seem, he undertook even that before 
I was aware of his intention. He commenced reading 
English history. He read only a page, at first, and stopped 
in the most interesting part. In the course of a month, 
he began to question me about the preceding readings, and 
I found to my great astonishment, that I had actually remem- 
bered a few historical facts! 

‘^We landed at Queenstown, Ireland, and spent several 
weeks among the wonders of the Emerald Isle. The season 
was so far advanced that we though best to defer our stay 
in England and Scotland, until the following Spring. We 
decided it was more preferable to cross the English Channel 
while the weather was mild, and become settled in our new 
quarters, than to wait until the chilly Winter had made its 
appearance. Accordingly, we crossed the Irish Sea, from 
Dublin to Liverpool, and took the cars direct to Dover, 
thence by boat to Calais. The trip was intensely interesting 
as the weather brought only a succession of pleasant days. 
It seemed to me as though I had found the source of un- 
alloyed enjoyment. The great wish of my life had been 
granted. I was free to travel, and view the wonders of 
other lands. We made a sojourn of a few weeks in Paris, 
to recover from the fatigue of travel. I found the gay 


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OUT OF TUNE. 


Parisian life like a transformation scene! And as marvel- 
lously fascinating as Aladdin’s wonderful lamp of the 
Arabian Nights! 

‘^We went from Paris to Mentone, and Cannes, where 
we passed the Winter. We were very pleasantly located, 
and found the climate in both places highly beneficial to 
Mrs. Moreland. We spent our time quietly and profitably. 
We still kept up the morning study and readings. The 
afternoons were devoted to sight-seeing; occasionally, we 
made a few social calls. 

^^In the early part of May we left France for England. 
On reaching Dover, we found Mort’s cousin awaiting us. 
It was a great surprise to me, as I did not know he had 
any relatives aside from his mother. Mort had written 
him, asking if he would direct us to a suitable place, and 
expected to find a letter answering all inquiries, on our 
arrival. ” 

^‘How pleasant it must have been,” said Mrs. Arthurs. 
^‘1 was under the impression that the mother and son were 
the only surviving relatives. I am glad to learn I am 
mistaken.” 

^‘So they were!” answered Beatrice. ‘^That is, the only 
near ones. Lan is a second or third cousin; I don’t remem- 
ber which. Quite distant, you see. Yet he was near 
enough to Mort, to be his brother. He resembled him, 
not only in appearance, but in voice and manners. I was 
sometimes puzzled myself to know which one was speaking. 

‘Xousin Lan conducted us to a charming little spot 
among the Devonshire hills; a beautiful place in the most 
fertile part of England, with an even, delightful tempera- 
ture. He was overworked, and remained a week to recu- 
perate. Our morning work met his hearty approval, and 
he asked admission to the readings, which we readily 
granted. We promised to spend the month of August with 
him, when he bade us good-bye. 

“In June we made a short trip into Wales. Though we 
enjoyed its rugged scenery, it lacked the charm of beautiful 


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155 


Devon, and we soon returned to its peaceful vales. We 
were so pleased with the lovely country, that we wished we 
might, sometime, make it our permanent home. 

‘‘We met Cousin Lan, as we had promised, and spent 
the whole month with him, and his family, or progeny, or 
whatever you may choose to term it. Dear old Cousin 
Lan! How I wish you all might know of the wonderful 
amount of good he is doing! 

“Do tell us all about him. Aunt Bee!’^ exclaimed Ruth. 
“ Where does he live ? What does he do ? And who is he? 
Is he a married man? Young or old?’’ Ruth’s rapid 
questions threw the listeners into a state of merriment. 

“Please tell us, Aunt Bee!” added Hilda. 

“Yes, Beatrice, we await your pleasure, and will try not 
to be too inquisitive,” said Mrs. Arthurs. 

Beatrice Moreland sat carefully counting her stitches. 
Though apparently absorbed in her work, she knew every- 
thing that was transpiring, and only awaited Violet’s appeal, 
before complying with the urgent requests. 

Violet understood the state of affairs. She knew that 
Beatrice would not resume the narrative till she had joined 
the general request. She was deeply interested, though 
the little incidents had sent a curious thrill along her veins. 
She saw she must express her desire, if she would not 
debar the others from pleasure. She turned and said, 
“I wish. Bee, you would relieve our suspense, and tell us 
all about the wonderful new relative. I am as curious as 
the girls to know all about him. Who is the mysterious 
Cousin Lan?” 

Mrs. Moreland hesitated before replying. She was think- 
ing deeply, and wished she might dispel the mystery which 
she had created. Prudence, however, came to the rescue, 
and showed that such an act would not only be unwise, 
but a gross mistake. She heeded the silent monitor, and 
allowed it to guide her actions. 

“Cousin Lan,” she repeated, glancing up and seeing all 
eyes riveted upon her, “O, he’s only Cousin Lan. I don’t 


OUT OF TUNE. 


156 

think I had better tell you his name, as he might not like it. 
He shrinks from all notoriety. I can safely say, he is one 
of the noblest men that ever lived. He is not only a preacher 
but a saint. He devotes his whole life to the poor and needy. 
He works with the zeal of a brother for fallen man. He 
labors specially among the young; inculcating within their 
hearts the principles of honesty and industry. 

“He owns a fine old-fashioned country house near one of 
England’s fashionable watering places. ‘Happy Haven,’ 
as it is called, is kept in order, by an elderly couple 
who were pensioners on his bounty. Cousin Lan runs 
down to the old place, whenever he needs recruiting. He 
always spends the month of August there, and part of the 
time he gives the poor little waifs of the great city an outing. 
He devotes two weeks to this benevolent object. He has 
two large tents raised on the grounds for their accommoda- 
tion. The boys are free to enjoy themselves, in whatever 
way they please; all kinds of amusements are provided for 
their entertainment. They can do as they please all day 
long. I really think they prize their liberty more than any- 
thing else. Cousin Lan has one party for a week; at the 
end of the time, the boys return, and another set fill their 
places. 

“When he told us of his scheme, and wished us to remain 
and see his little flock, I objected mentally, if not outwardly. 
I thought we would be crazed with all the uproar, and 
hilarity. Mort said he should enjoy it, and he did. In 
fact, we all did; I never saw so many boys together who 
conducted themselves so well. Mort and Cousin Lan 
were boys with them. 

“I think Cousin Lan must have had some great sorrow^ 
or disappointment in his life. He seemed so sad at times. 
I asked Mort if he knew of any; he did not, and I was no 
wiser than before. But, I concluded that whatever it was, 
he was blameless. Some one must have injured him.” 


CHAPTER XXV. 


“ Cast Thy Bread upon the Waters.’’ 

After leaving ‘Happy Haven’ we returned to Devon, 
and made arrangements to go to Scotland. We spent six 
weeks among the Highlands, and I brought away a large 
pot of the sturdy Scotch Ileather. We passed the winter, 
as we had the preceding one, at Mentone and Cannes. 

The following Spring and Summer was selected for an 
extended trip through Italy and Switzerland. The first 
of July found us in Germany. We had intended to spend 
only a month there, and return to Devon for the Winter and 
Spring. Afterwards we were to turn our steps homeward, 
and join the loved ones in the United States. But circum- 
stances changed our plans, and we remained there several 
months. 

“I became a little indisposed and fatigued. Mort and 
Mother Ivy insisted upon a physician being called. The 
great M. D. after a careful diagnosis, said that I should 
live very quietly for a few months. He considered a tran- 
quil life in a pleasant family would be more advantageous 
than the commotion of a hotel. He recommended moderate 
exercise each day and pleasant intercourse among friends. 
He prohibited all excitement and overdoing. So I, who 
had never known an ache or a pain, was under a physician’s 
regime. I protested, at first, against the imperious com- 
mand. But Mort and Mother Ivy were so solicitous con- 
cerning my welfare, that I gradually succumbed to the 
verdict of remaining in Germany for a time. However, it 
was an awful disappointment, as we all wished to return 
to our beloved Devon. 

“We obtained lodgings with a Mrs. Herr, in a small town, 
not far from a large city. We had a pretty suite of three 
rooms. They were very pleasant, and we made them 
homelike and attractive by adding whatever we desired. 


158 


OUT OF TUNE. 


‘‘Mrs. Herr was an elderly woman, and a widow. SJie 
supported herself by taking lodgers. She was intelligent 
and entertaining, having been for many years a companion 
to a lady interested in philanthropy. The family consisted 
of the mother, a daughter-in-law, Mrs. Lena Herr, and her 
little son of ten. 

“Lena Herr was a trained nurse, and quite devoted 
to her profession. She was engaged upon a very critical 
case at the time of our arrival, and we did not meet her for 
several weeks. The little boy, Eddie, was an invalid. 
He was bright and cheerful though a sufferer from hip 
disease. He had fallen while at play a few years before 
and injured the hip bone. The mother had used a large 
part of her income for the relief of the child, but so far all 
treatment had only been temporary. Nothing permanent 
could be obtained, and it seemed as though he must live an 
incurable invalid. 

“Mort, on his own responsibility, consulted our physician 
about the case. He said the child could be cured, without 
doubt, if he could have the right treatment. A surgical 
operation would be necessary, and it could only be per- 
formed at the hospital. It would not only take time but 
involve expense. 

“Mort said that was of no import, as he would willingly 
bear all the expenses, if the child’s relatives were favorable 
to the undertaking. 

“We confided the plans to the grandmother; she wept 
for joy, and asked Mort if he would write Mrs. Lena and 
give her the doctor’s statement. He complied, and received 
not only a favorable answer, but a mother’s heartfelt thanks. 
She wrote she had already consulted the leading physicians 
of a certain hospital in regard to the case. As soon as 
the necessary arrangements could be made, she intended 
placing Eddie there for treatment. She thought if her 
health continued, she could pay the half reduction which 
would be made in her favor. 

“Mort succeeded in convincing the mother that it was a 


OUT OF TUNE. 


159 

great pleasure for him to give a few dollars from his large 
fortune for the Father’s poor little deserving creatures. 

“The hospital proposed was situated some twenty-five 
or thirty miles from us. Mort and the physician went there, 
stated the case, and brought back a most encouraging 
report. Little Eddie’s tyes sparkled with the hope that he 
should be like other boys; that he could throw away his 
crutches and could run and leap. 

“He was taken to the hospital about four weeks after 
our arrival. He bore the operation finely and recovered 
from its effects. The restoration was slow, but, when we 
left there was a marked improvement, and he was progressing 
towards a permanent recovery. Poor, little Eddie, I wish I 
could see him again 1 

“My little son was born in November. The sixteenth 
they tell me. I have not much recollection of the event, 
as I was too sick to remember. He did not live long, I 
think only a few days, or hours. Everything connected 
with that time appears in a confused state.” 

“O, Beatrice, I did not know you had had a little one!” 
exclaimed Mrs. Arthurs. “Excuse me, please, for inter- 
rupting, but if it is painful for you to recall the past, I would 
not try. We will not ask you to entertain us longer.” 

“Though it may be painful, Mary, it relieves the heart to 
share its sorrows with others,” answered Beatrice. “My 
little Mortimer lies in the family lot of the Herrs, that is 
what I have been told. But I have a strange feeling that 
it is not so. It seems as though my baby was waiting for 
me on earth instead of in heaven. 

“My recovery was slow and tedious. All ambition 
seemed suddenly to have deserted me. I took no interest 
in anything. The spirit of contentment had gained pos- 
session and I accepted the situation without a murmur. 
I loved to roam among the wondrous castles which a mother’s 
imagination erects for her little ones. I would sit for hours, 
if unmolested, and follow the flights of fancy. Yet, the 
frail structures never fell; their gossamer strands were as 
strong as solid walls of masonry. 


i6o 


OUT OF TUNE. 


“Dr. K — said that I must be aroused from the apathy; 
it might be advisable to visit new places. Possibly strange 
scenes would stir the benumbed faculties, and restore them 
to their normal state. 

“We left our quiet home with the Herrs, and started for 
Italy. We had been with them so long we had become 
quite attached. Before leaving Mort gave a check to Mother 
Herr for the education of little Eddie. Lena was away at 
the time, taking charge of a patient. She bade us good-bye 
several days before our departure, saying she never could 
be thankful enough to Mr. Moreland for his great kindness. 
We promised to visit them the next summer, if possible, 
and write occasionally. 

“The fair skies of Italy with the blue waters of the Medi- 
terranean were no more attractive than the snows of Iceland. 
I cared nothing for the works of the grand old masters; I 
was interested only in the Madonnas and children. 

^'We arrived at Rouen in the Spring. Yet the old Norman 
city which caught the ashes of the martyred Joan of Arc, 
failed to awaken anything but a passing interest. 

“Mort startled me one evening, when we were sitting 
alone. Mother Moreland had retired, and we were about 
to follow her example. ‘Bee,^ he said, ‘what would you do 
if I were to go away ? ’ 

‘Why go with you, of course,^ I replied complacently. 

‘ I see you do not understand my meaning,’ he continued, 
‘and I will try to enlighten you. I am sorry to tell you, but 
know it is absolutely necessary to acquaint you with the 
situation. For years I have been affected with heart dis- 
ease. I have consulted the most skilful physicians, and 
through their aid, have been enabled to reach a very precious 
period in life. I have been improving during the past year, 
and flattered myself that the troublesome symptoms had 
totally disappeared. Lately the pain and suffocation has 
returned with renewed force, and I have been obliged to 
consult medical aid, and learn that my existence is only a 
short matter of time. Dr. F — states that I must live quietly, 


OUT OF TUNE. 


i6i 


if I would prolong life a single moment. The sands of life 
may run out in a few hours, days, or weeks. Mamma Ivy 
is unconscious of my condition, and I wish her to remain 
so. I have buoyed myself up with the false hopes that I 
might be spared till she had crossed the silent river. Now, 
I find that it is not permitted to be, I must ask you to help 
me make our last days the sweetest and happiest of all our 
lives. It is the Father^s will, that I must obey the law of 
nature earlier than some; but I know you would not wish 
me to remain on earth in pain, when freedom was offered in 
the elysium fields.’ 

‘^I was aroused from the state of indifference. It was a 
rude awaking though it proved an object of interest. I lost 
sight of self, in the care of my loved ones. ‘O, Mort,’ I 
cried, ‘I will do the best I can! But it is simply awful. I 
will be careful and shield our mother from all I can, dear.’ 

“We sat and talked an hour or more, arranging plans for 
the future; conversing so cheerfully that one might have 
supposed we were providing for a pleasant trip, instead of a 
sorrowful separation. We decided it was wiser to return 
to England, than to remain among strangers. 

“I thought my poor heart would break, and I could not 
keep from uttering one bitter cry : ^ If baby had only lived, 

I could bear it better! I should not be all alone!’ Mort 
looked so sad I restrained my feelings and became cheer- 
ful for his sake. 

“Mortimer lived only six weeks after we reached Devon. 
He gradually became weaker and weaker, till the end came 
from paralysis. Mother Moreland realized the situation 
only a few days before his death. We buried him according 
to his wish among the sweet vales of Devon. 

“The separation was more than the mother could bear, 
and in less than three short months she left the sorrows of 
earth for the joys of heaven. I could not wish her to re- 
main. It was impossible for Ivy-Vine (as Mort called her) 
to exist after the support, to which she had clung so trust- 
ingly, had been removed. 


i 62 


OUT OF TUNE. 


“Three years had intervened between the time I left 
home a happy bride, and returned a bereaved widow. My 
dear ones were resting in a foreign land, and I felt discon- 
solate. Cousin Lan proved a ‘true friend in time of need.^ 
But for his aid, and counsel, and sympathy I should have 
fainted under my heavy load of sorrow. Mamma and Aunt 
Ellie have petted me till I long for a stronger tonic; I need 
some one to tell me of the many faults, like Mortimer, or 
Cousin Lan. I am getting restless, and feel an inclination 
to visit the places where I was so happy across the sea. 

“I have received no news from the Herrs for nearly a 
year. I was too much absorbed with my own troubles 
to write, after Mort stopped. I would like to know if 
little Eddie has recovered, and think it might be a good 
idea to go and see. I also wish to learn if the ‘bread’ 
which Mort ‘cast upon the waters’ has been found, as he 
said it would. Then I am quite anxious to consult Cousin 
Lan about the removal of baby from Germany and the 
placing of him beside his father. I have talked with mamma 
and she agrees with me, so I think I shall cross the ocean 
again this Summer and remain a few months. I know I 
shall be the happier for it, as I shall satisfy the longing 
which urges me onward.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


“Wonders Will Never Cease!’’ 

“O, WHAT an interesting story!” exclaimed Ruth, as 
Mrs. Moreland finished. “Many thanks for your kindness, 
in complying with our wishes, when it was so sad for you 
to recall the past.” 

“I, too, would add my sincere thanks. Aunt Bee, and ask 
you to pardon my curiosity, if it has led beyond the bounds 
of prudence,” said Hilda. “Your life has been as romantic 
as a novel, and you are such a beautiful story-teller, that 
you have held us all spell-bound. ” 

“Am I?” queried Mrs. Moreland. 

“I can assure you. Bee, that nothing detrimental was 
intended from Hilda’s ambiguous compliment,” said Mrs. 
Arthurs, apologetically. “We are not only indebted to 
you for a fine entertainment but for one of life’s most valua- 
ble lessons, which you have so faithfully illustrated by the 
noble sacrifice of self for the good of those dependent upon 
you.” 

“No, no, Mary, I do not merit such lavish praise. I only 
did what any one would have done, in the same situation. 
It was no sacrifice for me to minister to the needs of my 
dear ones. I knew naught but the sweetest pleasure in 
serving them. I would gladly have given my own life for 
them, had it been possible. But, I will not murmur against 
Providence. I do not believe in hanging our sorrows upon 
our sleeves, for the curious to peck at. And then, I prom- 
ised Mort that I would neither mourn nor fret, so I flatter 
myself with the consolation that ‘it is all for the best.’ The 
oft-repeated maxim is not sufficiently consoling, however, 
to satisfy me. It cannot prevent my restlessness. Why 
I get so nervous at times, I would like to jump out of the 
world, if I only knew where I should land.” 


164 


OUT OF TUNE. 


^‘Oh, Aunt Bee,’’ cried Ruth, ‘‘you remind me of the 
man in Mother Goose, 

‘So wondrous wise. 

He jumped into the bramble bush. 

And put out both his eyes. ’ 

I am afraid any athletic attempt would place you in the 
same predicament, and like the man of nursery fame, you 
would be compelled to ‘jump back, to put them in again. ’” 

Ruth’s timely simile was received with a cheery laugh 
which dispelled the depressing clouds of sorrow as swiftly 
as the morning sun dispels the damp penetrating vapors 
of the night. 

“Aunt Bee, would it be requiring too much, to ask if 
you will read German a little while each morning, with me ? ” 
asked Hilda. 

Mrs. Moreland did not answer. Apparently she was lost 
in a reverie, among the memories of the ever-present past. 
The sad, yet happy reminiscences threw a sweet, pensive 
resigned look upon the countenance, making it as beautiful 
as an artist’s ideal. Again she was living over departed 
joys, and basking in the sunshine of an unbroken house- 
hold. 

Mrs. Arthurs placed a finger upon her lips and motioned 
the girls to silence. She thought best to allow Beatrice to 
indulge in the day dream. Violet, she judged, was too much 
absorbed with some perplexing problem of her own, to 
notice the lull in the conversation. 

Beatrice sighed, and the idol of the past enshrined within 
the heart, fell shattered from its pedestal. She saw she 
resembled the little German canary, which was dead though 
bearing the appearance of life. She was living though the 
life had been crushed out of the heart. Again she sighed, 
when she became conscious of the intense stillness. Glanc- 
ing up, she met Hilda’s inquiring gaze, and asked, “ Were 
you speaking to me, dear ? Pardon me, I was so busy with 


OUT OF TUNE. 165 

my ‘Lares and Penates/ that I had forgotten the existence 
of any one else.’’ 

Hilda repeated her former question, to which Beatrice 
gave a ready assent. “I can assure you,” she added, “it 
will be no trouble, only a pleasant reminder of the past. 
If the others will allow, we will go to your room, make a 
selection, return, and read to them. We can read the 
German, and translate into English. Mort and I always 
did that way. Is it agreeable?” 

The proposition met with favor. Beatrice and Hilda 
returned with Goethe’s Faust, and entertained the com- 
pany with the beautiful poem. 

“Wouldn’t you like to join us?” asked Beatrice, turning 
to Violet. “I know you read German.” 

“O, no,” replied Violet. “I much prefer listening. 
Your accent is very good, and you are ‘such a beautiful 
story-teller. ’ ” 

“Mort said my accent was good, notwithstanding the 
frequent falls which I made over the great stumbling blocks 
of the language. Why, sometimes the words seemed so 
huge, I could neither get them in nor out of my mouth.” 
said Beatrice humorously. 

Violet sat in a dreamy mood. The readings required 
no effort on her part to sustain them. Exempt from any 
requirement, she was as free to follow her wandering fancies 
as when alone. The soft, modulated tones of the readers 
fell upon her ear like a distant chime of bells, with their 
mellow cadence. She was strangely happy. To what 
source, her joy was attributable, she knew not. She only 
realized that she was satisfied with a consciousness which 
brought its own unsurpassed peace. She was willing to 
forego the investigation of the method whereby she had 
reached such a state of bliss; a thing hitherto contrary to 
her nature. 

The beautiful light of truth was shining upon her with its 
rich effulgence. It was flooding all the avenues of the heart, 
and chasing away the gruesome shadows of doubt and 


166 


OUT OF TUNE. 


unbelief. It was guiding her unconsciously, yet voluntarily, 
into new paths. In childhood’s days, she had crouched 
for hours, beside the babbling brook, listening to its rippling 
music, as it went singing over its pebbly bed, on its way 
to join the mighty river. All her little woes had floated 
away with the tiny paper crafts she had carefully placed 
in the water. She could never learn why the little drops of 
water collected in a certain spot, and formed a spring, which 
was the source of a great river. Yet she loved the 
mysterious brook, and learned the lesson of contejitment 
from its soothing song. 

Mrs. Morleand’s voice had recalled the memories of the 
Summer stream; sweet as the rhythm of its flow, it had 
carried away all the petty troubles, lulling the listener to a 
happy state. Violet’s early training had taught her to 
accept the pleasant when opportune, notwithstanding 
prejudice. For her to know, was to act. Immediate 
action was the result of resolution. 

Her mind had undergone a marvellous change in regard 
to Beatrice. There was a vast difference between her 
former schoolmate, and the present Mrs. Moreland. Where- 
in that difference lay, she could not determine. She gave 
herself the benefit of the query, however, and attributed 
the change to her friend. She sat complacently awaiting 
the end of the reading. She was interested rather more in 
her own fortune than that of Margaret, the principal char- 
acter of the poem. 

“What do you think of the heroine. Aunt Vi?” asked 
Hilda as they closed their books. “Isn’t it a wonderful 
creation of the imagination ? ” 

“It is a very beautiful story,” responded Violet. “But, 
I do not think myself competent to venture an opinion 
upon the maiden, with my faulty judgment. And, in the 
present case, I must plead guilty to inattention, so I have 
not followed you very closely. You and Bee must pardon 
me, for being so remiss. I have been thinking very deeply 
about you, Beatrice, and wonder if you could help me.” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


167 


will gladly do anything that lies in my power, to assist 
you, Violet,’’ responded Beatrice. What is it you wish?” 

“You have shown yourself so efficient in your ministra- 
tions to others, that you may be able to smooth my rugged 
path a little,” continued Violet, without answering Bee’s 
question. 

“O, Violet,” exclaimed Beatrice, ‘ht seems ironical, or 
even ludicrous to speak of your ‘rugged path,’ of life! I 
always used to envy you for being able to walk a path of 
roses, while I was obliged to struggle on among the briers 
and brambles. Excuse me, please, for making light of 
your misfortune. It only shows how little we understand 
our friends, when we are passing judgment upon them. 
Tell me what you wish, and we may be able to help you out 
of the trouble, no matter what it is.” 

“Beatrice, will you allow me to accompany you to Europe, 
this Summer?” asked Violet beseechingly, “I have — ” 
“Go to Europe with me!” repeated Beatrice, interrupt- 
ing. “Certainly you can; there, or any other place; round 
the world, if you like. But do you really mean it ? It will 
be just too delightful for anything!” 

“Most assuredly I do,” responded Violet. “I not only 
desire it, but earnestly entreat for the opportunity which 
will afford me such a genial fellow-traveler. No wonder 
you are astonished at my question. I am, myself; there 
has been nothing foreseen, or even considered in regard to 
it, on my part. On the contrary, I would not listen to any 
suggestion of Mary’s that I should invite you to go with me. 
You must forgive me. Bee, for so cruelly misjudging you. 
I find I have made a great mistake. They say ‘confession 
is good for the soul ;’ if so, then I would ask for absolution 
from your hands. I will be perfectly candid, and say that 
I wish you to take me with you. Do not let me change any 
part of the intended journey. All I require is simply to 
participate in your pleasure, or sorrows, even. Will it be 
agreeable for you to take me along under these conditions ? ” 
“Oh, it will be lovely!” assented Beatrice. “How 


OUT OF TUNE. 


1 68 

pleased mamma and Aunt Ellie will be over the arrange- 
ment! They were troubled about my going alone, and 
objected at first. Oh, it is awfully sweet in you to go! If 
some good fairy had told me to select a companion, I would 
have chosen an angel from heaven, before thinking of you. 
How beautifully the Father cares for his children. Mort 
would say, ‘He knows what is best, and gives more, and 
better than we can ask.’ But I am glad you really like me, 
Violet; I think I almost used to worship you, in the old 
days; you saw through my subterfuges, and disliked me 
for them, as I deserved. Let us say no more about it, than 
we would a cloudy day of a hundred years ago! As for 
me, I am so overwhelmed with joy, my spirits are running 
away with me!” 

Bee’s tact ended all recriminations, and turned the inter- 
rupted flow of conversation into the former pleasing chan- 
nel. All expressed their gratification at the turn which 
things had taken, and congratulated Violet and Beatrice 
over their fair prospects. 

“ Will it be convenient for you to sail on the tenth of next 
month, Violet?” asked Beatrice anxiously. “I have every 
arrangement made, and it is rather late to change; yet, I 
think it might be managed if you wish.” 

“I am perfectly satisfied with your plans. I heartily 
coincide with everything. Please remember. Bee, that I 
am going with you, and act your own pleasure. The tenth 
is the day Hervey and Elva start upon their bridal trip to 
Europe; probably upon the same steamer. How oppor- 
tune!” 

In the solitude of her room that evening, Violet reviewed 
the events of the day. “The very thing,” she mused, 
“against which I protested has happened. I said, ‘Won- 
ders will never cease,’ when I invite Bee Moreland to ac- 
company me. Strange to say, they have not; but stranger 
still is the fact, that I actually begged an invitation! Wise 
little Unie! I wonder if she foresaw what would happen! 
I think her reliance upon the Father of the universe is a 


OUT OF TUNE. 


169 


striking illustration of faith. She looks to Him for guidance 
in everything, and is never misled; while I have always 
considered the Creator, a mighty Potentate who interfered 
in human affairs, that He might give His subjects the neces- 
sary discipline! I find I have been grievously in error. 
Unie’s life, as well as Alan’s has been brightened by the 
star of hope; mine has been overshadowed with clouds of 
rebellion and unbelief. I must acknowledge their way is 
better than mine, if I would be true to my convictions. ” 
Beatrice forgot all about her curiosity concerning Violet, 
in the exuberance of joy over the state of affairs. She com- 
municated the good news to mamma and Aunt Ellie, before 
retiring. Her slumbers were sweet, and refreshing with 
happy dreams of her loved ones. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

Waves of Joy. 

Violet and Beatrice remained two weeks at Oakhurst. 
They were almost inseparable in their new relations, and 
might easily have been taken for life-long friends. The 
time passed joyously away. The days were spent in pleas- 
ing intercourse, and sweet interchange of thought, till the 
details connected with the Summer’s trip made it necessary 
for them to return to their homes. 

In the meantime, Lucy accompanied by Hilda, had 
visited the Bradleys, and presented the generous offer of 
Violet Morriton to her sister Fannie. It was gratefully 
received, though the recipient could not understand why 
she should be so favored above all others. Her doubts 
were banished, however, when the matter concerning the 
sketches was laid before her. 

Lucy told her of Unie’s successful presentation of the 
‘‘Lotus Leaves” to the public. She gave such an accurate 
description of the little one, so hopefully patient under all 
her affliction, that Fannie’s heart went out to the unknown 
sufferer. 

“Tell Miss Morriton, for me, Lucy, that I accept her 
kind offer, and will furnish all the sketches she desires, till 
she says enough. I already feel new life coursing through- 
out the veins, in contemplating the change; the realization 
will be as an oasis, in the desert to the weary traveler. I 
am really anxious to enter my new field. I was feeling so 
discouraged and useless, and utterly forsaken, that I was 
only a prey to morbid fears when you came. Indeed, I 
was fast becoming a hypochondriac,” said Fannie. “How 
true, the saying, ‘it is always the darkest before the dawn! ’” 

The friendship between Hilda and Fannie was renewed 
with a promised visit during the Winter holidays. After a 
brief stay of two days, Hilda returned to Oakhurst at the 
same time Lucy and Fannie started for Morriton House. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


171 

Fannie’s bright and energetic manner won the esteem 
of the Morritons, and they gladly welcomed her, extending 
the privileges of their beautiful home. Unie and Fannie 
felt the bond of friendship uniting them simultaneously. 
Fannie became the champion of the weaker. They passed 
the days in resting and planning about sketches for the 

Lotus Leaves.” Fannie thought by the time they were 
settled at Roselands, after all the excitement attached to 
the wedding had subsided, she should be able to commence 
the enticing work. 

^Tt really seems as though another Elva had come to 
me!” exclaimed Unie one day, as they sat talking about 
the same things which had occupied the time previous to 
the sending forth of the artistic Leaves.” ‘^How kindly 
our Father provides for us! Better than we can devise 
or even suggest! I missed Elva so much, I was a little 
lonely, and even dreaded the long quiet days at Roselands. 
And behold! before I can murmur, my heart’s desire is 
granted, without my expressing a single wish! How can 
one doubt the wisdom of Providence!” 

Violet returned home in a far different frame of mind 
than that which she had departed with. The old restless 
look was replaced with one of contentment and peace. 
She appeared to have grown more beautiful, and the features 
bore the impress of a happy heart. 

“How in the world did it happen that you changed your 
opinion concerning Mrs. Moreland?” inquired Mr. Morri- 
ton. “Are you responsible for the change? Or is she? 
I never heard anything so remarkable in all my life! En- 
lighten me, please!” 

“Really, I don’t know!” responded Violet with a laugh. 
“I cannot tell when, or how, the change happened; yet, 
it certainly did. You see, papa, I began to study her when 
she arrived at Mary’s. I looked upon her as an interesting 
curiosity and was rewarded for the look. She not only 
became interesting, but fascinating. I found that I had 
either greatly misjudged her, or she had greatly changed. 


172 


OUT OF TUNE. 


I could not fully decide which. Possibly, there may have 
been a change in both. I had always considered her as one 
of the biggest frauds in existence; but on a closer acquaint- 
ance, I found the glaring defects of character not so hideous 
as I had imagined. Her married life seems to have been 
a sort of training school, bringing out the better part of her 
nature. The way in which she held out her own faults 
for ridicule completely mystified me. She seemed as trans- 
parent as ever, in her little flighty ways; yet, she uncon- 
sciously drew me to her; so strongly that I asked permis- 
sion to accompany her, on her trip to Europe. Imagine, 
if you can, my suing for a favor from Bee Moreland! I 
even told that I had called her a ‘Busy Bee,’ in derision; 
she replied she wished I would continue; it would seem 
like old times, as it was one of Mort’s pet names for her. 
She is trying to be a brave little woman, and bear her trouble 
and sorrow, from the promise to her husband. She speaks 
of Mortimer Moreland as cheerfully as though he were away 
on a visit, when all the time, I know her heart is breaking 
with its silent grief. She buried her husband and mother- 
in-law in England; a little son is resting somewhere in 
Germany. She is going there to have his remains placed 
beside his father’s. A sad mission you might suppose, 
but one which I think I shall enjoy, for the very reason that 
it is out of the ordinary. I know I shall enjoy the trip, she 
is so entertaining, with a perfect fund of humor, and a mania 
for conversation. I admire her, on the whole. You have 
my reasons; are they sufficiently plain?” 

“Not wholly, my child!” answered the father. “It 
reminds me of the difference between ‘tweedledum and 
tweedledee!’ I should say that either the ‘tables were 
turned upon you,’ or that the ‘scales’ have fallen from your 
eyes! There is one consolation, a good hater makes a good 
lover! However, I am fully satisfied at the ‘turn of the 
tide.’ You both will be in good hands, as long as Hervey 
and Elva remain abroad, and possibly you may return with 
them. I trust so. What do you think, mother, about thi 
new scheme?” he asked, turning to Mrs. Morriton. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


173 


think most favorably of it,” responded the mother. 
^‘Everything is being arranged so nicely for our benefit, 
that nothing beyond an overruling Providence could have 
devised it. Fannie Bradley has come to us, and is already 
filling Elva^s place, with her sweet watch-care over Unie. 
We shall bear your absence better, Violet, from her pres- 
ence. You are learning that life’s greatest happiness is in 
doing good to others. See what waves of joy your little act 
of kindness to Lucy has caused. First, Lucy was relieved of 
her sorrow; then Fannie and her parents; it reached Hilda, 
and the Arthurs household; it sent a rolling wave of light 
ajid gladness to little Unie, and in fact to all our hearts, 
when it came in the form of Fannie Bradley to our midst. 
But, the greatest wave of all was that which rebounded to 
your own heart, and brought you in contact with Beatrice. 
We cannot tell how far these waves may extend; their 
circles may widen and expand through eternity. I rejoice 
with you, Violet, that you have secured such a suitable 
friend and companion.” 

“That settles the matter, then,” said Mr. Morriton. 
“If mother is satisfied, we are; and I know, you have 
gained a vast amount of good, by your short trip to Boston, 
though I don’t see it in the same way your mother does. I 
hope your trip to Europe may be as productive of happiness 
as this one, only more so.” 

“Thank you, both, for your kind wishes,” said Violet, 
well pleased with her parents’ commendation. 


, CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Wedding Bells. 

Hervey and Harry Morriton turned their steps eastward 
on the first of May. They compassed the distance from 
California to New York, by easy journeys, reaching home 
in two weeks. Hervey was greatly improved; his health 
was established upon a firmer basis, than was thought pos- 
sible a year ago. The bronzed traveler was very hopeful, 
and looked forward to an ultimate recovery. He attributed 
everything to Harry, stating that he never could have en- 
dured the privation of study, had it not been for his brother's 
watchful care. think,’’ he remarked, ‘^he should add 
the profession of nurse and physician, to his many talents. 
For I am fully convinced that a more efficient, sympathetic, 
and exacting one cannot be found among the whole faculty! 
He is quite an old fogy!” 

The parents and Aunt Lida saw the wisdom in allowing 
the brothers the privilege of companionship. The need had 
been greater than they had supposed. It was clearly 
shown that Harry had not exaggerated, from the great re- 
sults, and Hervey’s own testimony. 

‘‘What he will do without me in the future,” remarked 
Harry, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “I cannot 
say. ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’ If I 
were not going to relinquish my care to another, I really 
should be as anxious as a hen over a chicken, about him. 
Joking aside, my dear people, he needs a guardian. He 
thinks no more of sitting in the worst draughts of air, if he is 
lost in a book, than a child would. I am going to offer my 
services to the Mountain Maid, for a future emergency. 
I flatter myself I am a good jailer.” 

“‘There is more truth than poetry,’ in your words,” 
remarked Aunt Lida, bestowing a loving glance upon her 
favorite nephew. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


17s 

“Thanks, Auntie!” exclaimed Harry, taking a chair 
beside her, and throwing his head into her lap. 

Aunt Lida took a piece of confectionery from her pocket, 
that vast receptacle of childish goodies, and placed it in 
Harry’s mouth, with an affectionate pat upon the head. 

“Oh, Auntie!” cried Harry, jumping up, “think of feed- 
ing six feet of humanity with peppermints! Never mind, 
though, it is just as good as though I was only four, instead 
of twenty.” 

After a few days’ rest, Hervey left for the Berkshire Hills, 
the home of the Darlings. He wished to make the acquaint- 
ance of Elva’s parents, trusting they would look favorably 
upon him, as one of their own. 

On his departure, Harry complained bitterly of his deser- 
tion. “What is to become of me?” he asked humorously. 
“I find myself suddenly deprived of a situation! Unie 
does not need me, and Hervey will not let me go with him! 
What shall I do? As long as I am obliged to remain, I 
guess I’ll see what truth there is in that interesting fib of 
Unie’s. I noticed a fire in those black eyes, which I should 
enjoy to set blazing. You seem so surprised, I had better 
relieve your suspense. I refer to Miss Fannie Isabelle 
Bradley!” 

Harry’s bright sallies of wit had relieved the anxious 
look upon his brother’s face. In fact, their memory lingered 
with him throughout his journey. 

Elva’s home was in a beautiful village, nestling among 
the green hills, in a peaceful valley beside the Deerfield 
River. The Darlings had been among the early settlers, 
being attracted to the spot by the fertile soil, rich timber- 
land, and water facilities. They had never amassed a 
fortune, though they had been burdened with cares. 

Eben Darling, Elva’s father, was struggling on, in the 
same manner as his ancestors had done. It was sometimes 
very difficult to keep the preying wolf from the door. He 
had been obliged to turn his energies from cultivating the 
soil, to a more profitable occupation, in order to maintain 


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a livelihood for his family. The Aunt’s legacy to Elva had 
been a blessed boon in many ways. 

The marriage settlement, which was a surprise, enabled 
her to procure a trousseau suitable for a Morriton bride. 
Her taste led to an elegance of simplicity, rather than an 
elaborate display of extravagance. 

The eighth of June was the day selected for the wedding. 
It dawned upon the anxious hearts, bright and clear, without 
a cloud upon the horizon. The Morriton family, with the 
exception of Unie, were present to witness the happy event. 
Dr. Herbert was the best man, though Harry’s officiousness 
might have conveyed a contrary impression to the beholder. 

^T think I have the best right over this affair, as I was the 
instrument which brought you to the ark of safety, from 
which I trust you will never attempt to run away!” he 
remarked solemnly to Elva, as he extended his hand in 
greeting upon his arrival. 

The ceremony took place in the village church, at ten in 
the morning; it was tastefully decorated with wild flowers 
and ferns. Daisies with laurel branches were wreathed 
around the altar, in artistic beauty. A large bell of mar- 
guerites suspended from the ceiling was near the altar. 
The whole atmosphere was fragrant with June roses and 
lilies smiling from every available place. The decoration 
was the loving labor of the choir of which Elva had been a 
member since childhood. It showed in a small measure 
the high esteem in which they held their accomplished 
leader. 

In the presence of a crowded audience, beneath the 
emblematic bell, Hervey and Elva pledged their sacred 
vows of love, and entered upon a new pathway of life. 

The bride was gowned in white satin and duchesse lace, 
which fell in soft filmy cascades, giving the appearance of a 
fairy created from the mist. The clear, distinct responses 
of the lady, however, proclaimed her to be mortal and cor- 
rected any error which might have arisen. 

After holding a reception at the old home, the bridal 


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177 

party departed for New York, amid showers of rice and best 
wishes. 

Beatrice Moreland had been with the Morritons only a 
few days. Yet, even Aunt Lida said, ‘‘She fits in remarka- 
bly well for a stranger.’’ Through her kindness, Mrs. 
Morriton had been enabled to be present at the marriage. 

“Do not worry, dear Mrs. Morriton,” said Beatrice in 
her persuading, fascinating way. “I can take Violet’s 
place, and Aunt Lida and I will be a host within ourselves! ” 

The result was, that Beatrice obtained the victory, and 
the mother departed willingly acquiescent. The first move 
she made was to ask Aunt Lida to go with her to Unie’s 
room. As soon as they were seated she explained her 
reason. “What do you both think about giving the bridal 
couple a surprising welcome on their return?” she asked. 
“We have only two days, I know, in which to prepare, but I 
know something novel might be furnished if we all ‘took 
a hand,’” she continued, without allowing the others an 
opportunity of answering. “What do you think would 
be the best thing to do? Can either of you suggest any- 
thing ? ” 

“As you are the inventor of the scheme,” sagely remarked 
Aunt Lida, “I see no difficulty in your carrying it out. We 
will help in whatever manner we are able, though I have 
my hands full about matters concerning the reception. I 
may give a little advice, now and then. These convalescents 
I am afraid you will have to excuse. Let us know what the 
great surprise is!” 

“I have been looking over the drawing room, and think 
an alcove might be arranged in one corner. It could be 
covered with green, and flowers, making it a bower of roses, 
within which Mr. and Mrs. Hervey Morriton might receive 
the congratulations of their numerous friends. A frame 
of lightwood could be easily made; we might arrange 
asparagus ferns all over the rough material; with pink and 
white roses, making it a fairy’s bower. We want fresh flow- 
ers, not wilted ones, they are suggestive of sorrow, and we 


178 


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can’t have anything dismal. We could have the roses in 
little bottles of water, and tie them on at the last moment. 
Don’t you think it would be lovely ? ” she asked eagerly. 

“Yes! ” answered Fannie and Unie. “It would be splen- 
did!” 

“It would be very nice, indeed,” assented Aunt Lida, 
“if you could accomplish it all. ” 

“Never fear!” exclaimed Beatrice, “I will set Jimmie 
at work forthwith. I will oversee everything, and we will 
have it all ready for the roses by night. Tomorrow, we 
will gather them, and send for what we lack. After Jim- 
mie gets through with his pounding, Unie can rest in the 
room, and witness the twining of the asparagus. I think 
Fannie, you could help about that part.” 

“Let me help about the roses, will you?” asked- Unie, 
solicitously. “I can put them in the little bottles of water, 
for you. O, it will be splendid to have a rosy bower for 
Elva!” 

“There is no objection, provided you do not tire yourself, ” 
vouchsafed Aunt Lida. 

Beatrice departed to find Jimmie, and put the plan into 
execution, saying as she went, “We will keep it a secret 
from them all, till they go into the room, and allow no one 
to enter but ourselves.” 

The proposition was fully carried out. Under Jimmie’s 
hands a very substantial frame was erected, resting upon 
large beams entirely covered with soft emerald moss. Unie 
lay upon a couch throughout the long afternoon, and watched 
the progress of the work. “It is very beautiful, now, with 
its wealth of green, and what will it be, when we have the 
roses blooming upon it?” cried Unie rapturously, at the 
close of the day’s labors. 

The pleasure afforded the returning ones, when they 
beheld the drawing room, amply repaid for the small amount 
of labor expended. 

Mr. and Mrs. Hervey Morriton received the congratula- 
tions of their many friends, within the fragrant bower ^ 


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179 


The novel arrangement was admired by all; some spoke 
of it, among themselves, as a unique affair, and wondered 
who the designer was. 

On the following day they sailed for Europe, accom- 
panied by Violet and Mrs. Moreland. Dr. Herbert and 
Harry escorted them to the large steamer which was 
to bear them across the Atlantic, and watched their depart- 
ure. 

As the steamer passed from view, Harry remarked, 
‘‘Well, Doc, that Bee Moreland is a busy one! isn’t she? 
You had better take the advice Samuel Weller gave his son; 
‘beware of widdersi’ I’ve heard widows were partial to 
doctors! So ‘forewarned is forearmed!’ Don’t be caught 
napping!” 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

An Ocean Concert. 

The time for crossing the ocean was most favorable. 
Pleasant weather prevailed throughout the entire trip making 
the waters as placid as those of a lake. The Morriton 
party assembled in the grand saloon each day, and amused 
themselves in whatever manner inclination led. 

One evening, Mr. and Mrs. Hervey were indulging in 
Elva’s favorite game of halma. Violet and Beatrice were 
seated near by playing cribbage. Miss Gray, the captain’s 
daughter, was watching the game with much interest, 
and listening to the music which come floating from the 
grand piano. 

^‘O, Vi, I wish you and Mrs. Hervey would favor us with 
a little real music!” cried Beatrice. am completely 
out of patience with the mixture of sounds called harmony, 
which have fallen from the fingers of the performers. Ama- 
teurs and professionals have, in turn, pounded that splendid 
instrument, till it has fairly groaned under the operation, 
to say nothing of afflicting the listeners with the torture. 
I get so tired of hearing the same old hackneyed tunes, I 
am almost tempted to try it myself; only the fear of in- 
creasing the discord prevents me. It would be such a 
pleasure, if you would!” 

‘‘Sorry to disappoint you. Bee! But I do not care to 
exhibit what little talent I possess to the promiscuous 
crowd of a steamer! You are too fastidious! If Elva 
and I endure it, why can’t you?” answered Violet, con- 
tinuing the game. 

Shortly afterwards. Miss Gray left her seat, for a few 
moments, and returned before she had been missed. She 
went to her father, and begged that he would invite the 
bride, Mrs. Morriton, and her sister to favor the company 
with music, as she had learned they were professionals. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


i8i 

The father promised to grant the request of his beautiful, 
motherless child, as soon as possible. 

‘^Miss Morriton, will you, and Mrs. Morriton kindly 
favor us with a few musical selections ? ’’ he asked, approach- 
ing the astonished players. 

“Really, Captain Gray, you must excuse me. I am not 
in the mood,’’ answered Violet. “Have you not heard 
enough music already and become surfeited ? ” 

“No, I have not,” calmly replied the Captain. “I have 
heard none since we left port. ” 

“O, what a paradoxical statement, father!” said Hazel. 
“Explain yourself, please, for our enlightenment.” 

“Do not make me commit myself. Allow me the privi- 
lege of a politician, my child. ” 

“I am sorry to appear disobliging, Captain Gray, but 
you must excuse me, this time. Perhaps you may meet 
with success from Mrs. Morriton,” she added. 

‘‘Excuse me, for interrupting your game, but I come to 
beg a small favor from your bride,” he said, addressing 
Hervey. Turning to her he stated his request. “ I am 
commissioned, Mrs. Morriton, to ask if you will entertain 
us with a little music?” 

“Most willingly. Captain Gray, if it will give you any 
pleasure,” replied Elva. “You are doing so much for our 
comfort I should be very glad to render you any little service 
that lies within my power. I have been longing to touch 
the keys of that fine instrument, but thought I would wait 
till the others had finished.” 

“Then you would have waited in vain; they will not cease 
till we reach the other shore,” added the Captain with a 
sagacious twinkle of the eye. “I will have the piano moved 
to another part of the saloon, so I can hear, while I am on 
duty. Receive my thanks for your kindness, in granting 
my request,” he bowed and departed to his lookout station. 

The piano was moved according to his directions, and 
Elva took her seat before it. Running her fingers over the 
keys caressingly, she played chords and scales a short time. 


182 


OUT OF TUNE. 


All recognized her skill and masterly touch, even from them. 
An old professor, sitting alone in his stateroom, caught 
something familiar about the sounds. am thankful,” 
he mused, ‘Hhere is some one on board who can play! 
Who is an artist! I have stopped my ears from the other 
trash! That’s excellent!” he continued; ^‘sounds like 
that little Darling girl, who was such a musical prodigy! 
I may as well creep out a little ways where I can hear more 
clearly!” He did so, being entirely concealed from the 
player by the crowd which had gathered around. She 
played piece after piece from the grand old masters. Her 
listeners were held spellbound. The doors of the state- 
rooms were opened, that the sick might enjoy the melodious 
sounds. Two hours passed away; she was so much en- 
gaged, that time made no impression upon her in its flight. 

Violet,” she said, ‘‘if you will accompany me, I will sing 
a little song for Captain Gray.” 

Violet could not refuse, and seated herself in Elva’s 
place, convinced that it was a pleasure to give pleasure 
unto others. 

Mrs. Morriton’s songs actually carried her audience by 
storm. Applause after applause greeted her, at the close 
of each selection with cries of “more! more!” The old 
Professor recognized the voice of his former pupil. “It is 
she! I could never mistake those tones!” he remarked 
as he rose, and walked toward the piano to meet her. He 
wedged his way through the crowd and stood waiting to 
express his thanks. 

“Allow me to congratulate you. Miss Darling, on your 
success! I see you have lost nothing since you left my 
care! ” he said, extending his hand in welcome. 

“Oh, Professor Strachauer!” exclaimed Elva, in surprise. 
“ Where did you drop from ? I did not know my old teacher 
was listening to me; if I had, I might have been a trifle 
nervous. Allow me to present my husband, Mr. Morriton, 
to you,” she said, turning to Hervey. 

“Accept my congratulations! I am pleased to make 


OUT OF TUNE. 


183 

your acquaintance, Mr. Morriton,’’ he said, extending his 
hand, ‘though sorry to learn you will deprive the world of 
a true musician.” 

feel my soul thrill within me, at the sound of your 
voice, and I would like you to sing the sweet little song of 
the Shepherd Boy. Will you try it. Little One? Or, are 
you too weary?” asked the Professor. 

‘‘Not at all!” responded Elva. “I should be delighted 
to sing again under your direction.” 

The Professor played the prelude; Elva sang the thrilling 
little song so pathetically that the audience were hushed 
to silence. They had no wish to applaud at the end of the 
stanzas, but waited expectantly for more. When the finale 
was reached and they were convinced there was no more, 
the applause was tremendous, and deafening. The whole 
piece was repeated as an encore for their gratification. 

“Mrs. Morriton begs you will excuse her from further 
singing to-night, after she has given you a good-night song,” 
said the Professor, turning to the assembled crowd. 

“We will! we will!” they answered with one accord. 

Elva sang that exquisite little gem, “Good-night, Sweet 
Dreams. ” The words fell upon the passengers like a benison 
from on high. “Good-night, sweet dreams. God bless 
you, everywhere.” 

It was an appropriate ending of one of the grandest 
concerts ever held at sea. The rich blessing rang through 
the slumbers of the night. Some who had forgotten the 
silent Watcher over all, turned upon their pillows with a 
joyous heart, conscious of His faithful watchcare, saying 
truly, “He has blessed me everywhere.” 

Violet hummed the sweet strains lingering in her heart, 
assured that God had blessed her, everywhere! 

Every evening from that time was passed in the same 
enjoyable and profitable manner. Mrs. Hervey Morriton 
was not only considered the queen of song, but was wor- 
shiped as an angel by the admiring crew and passengers. 


CHAPTER XXX. 

Think You Have Saved My Reason.” 

The steamer reached Liverpool, the port of destination, 
in due season. A secret note of thankfulness ran through 
the heart of everyone that he would once more walk upon 
solid earth. Many were sorry to sever the pleasant ac- 
quaintances which had been formed on shipboard. 

Captain Gray said, ‘Ht is one of the nicest parties I ever 
conducted across the ‘briny deep.’ I wish I might take you 
all back. We have been favored by Providence with pros- 
perous winds for our journey; but the happy feeling of 
unity which has prevailed, I am certain, is attributable to 
Mrs. Hervey.” 

This was the sentiment of all. She received many thanks 
from her admirers as they were about to part. One very 
touching incident occurred; an elderly man approached 
her with an embarrassed air. “I beg you will pardon me 
for troubling you, but my little girl would like to see you, 
and thank you for the great joy which you have given her. 
She is too sick to come to you, and as a favor, asked if you 
would come to her. Will you grant her a few moments ? ” 
he asked beseechingly. 

“ Certainly, I willl ” answered Elva. 

Mr. Porter led the way to a state-room nearby; Elva 
found to her astonishment a young lady about her own age, 
who was suffering from the effects of a severe illness. “Ethel, 
my dear, I have brought the lady to see you, ” he said. 

“I am very glad to be able to thank you, Mrs. Morriton, 
for the great pleasure you have afforded me,” said the suf- 
ferer. “I am troubled with insomnia; often I lie awake 
through the long hours of the night, and fall into a fitful 
doze in the morning, from which I awake at the least noise. 
But strange to say, your music had a most soothing effect 
upon my shattered nerves. While listening to your heavenly 
strains, I have fallen into a refreshing sleep which has 


OUT OF TUNE. 


i8s 

lasted for hours. In fact, I endeavored as hard to keep 
awake to listen to your melodious voice, as I had previously 
struggled to woo the god of sleep. I had nearly given up 
in despair, when you came to my rescue. I think you have 
saved my reason! If all the rhetorical figures of the lan- 
guage were summoned to my aid, they would be inade- 
quate to express a tenth of my gratitude for your exceeding 
great kindness. ” 

‘‘You poor afflicted child!’’ said Elva, tenderly. “I 
fully understand your feelings. I know what it means to 
find sympathy among strangers. I too, have been afflicted. ” 

“You see, Mrs. Morriton, the little one has been having 
a long, hard pull with sickness. The doctors recommended 
a sea voyage and a change of climate; so I dropped all 
business cares and came to look out for her. I wish I could 
find a quiet, pleasant spot somewhere near the coast. The 
southern part of this country is fine, I am told. I know 
Ethel will pull through all right as soon as we find it; but 
I hate to bother her about finding the right one,” he added, 
by way of explanation. 

“If you will allow me, Mr. Porter, I will ask a friend of 
our party to give you all the information you desire. She 
has spent many months here, and is well acquainted with 
the people. She is a Mrs. Moreland.” 

“I wonder if she could be the Beatrice Somers, who mar- 
ried Mortimer Moreland?” said Ethel, greatly interested. 

“She must be the same one, I know, as their names are 
similar. I will find her, that you may renew your friend- 
ship for the little time which we have left,” said Mrs. 
Hervey. 

“Ask your party to make me a flying call, if you wish,” 
said Ethel, filled with new hope. 

Hervey, Violet and Beatrice had been surprised when 
Elva left them to obey the summons of the anxious father. 
But they were more surprised when she returned and asked 
them to accompany her. Entering a large, commodious 
state-room, they saw the same gentleman sitting near a 
lady reclining upon a couch. She introduced them, as Mr. 


i86 


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Porter and daughter, to her husband, sister and friend, 
reserving Mrs. Moreland till the last. 

Beatrice advanced to the couch to see the occupant, 
and astonished them all by crying out, ^‘Oh, you darling 
Ethel! To think of you being on this steamer all the time 
and never letting me know about it 1 How could you do it ?” 

‘^Because I was fast becoming a hypochondriac, I think,” 
answered Ethel. felt so wretchedly I wanted to see, or 
hear no one. I wished to be left alone, and should have 
remained so, if it had not been for Mrs. Morriton’s beautiful 
music. She carried me away to dreamy realms of bliss, which 
brought rest to my weary body. I was so tired, body, soul, 
and mind, that I could not rest. I was so thankful to the 
unknown lady who had benefited me, that I told papa 
I would like to thank her. And he, always willing to gratify 
every whim, went in search of her. Through her, I learned 
of you, Beatrice; so you will excuse me, won’t you? and 
attribute all my idiosyncrasies to the freaks of an invalid ?” 

^^Of course I will, you dear child,” replied Beatrice. 
‘‘We will avail ourselves of what time there is left, before we 
land. I flatter myself, though, that I was the innocent 
means of your enjoyment. I asked my friends to furnish 
the music in the presence of Hazel Gray, the Captain’s 
daughter. I know she persuaded her father to invite them 
to entertain. It proved a good thought.” She gave her 
an affectionate kiss, keeping up a steady flow of questions, 
which no one attempted to answer. 

Pausing for want of breath, she noticed the wondering 
looks of her companions, and deemed it necessary to en- 
lighten them upon the subject. “You see,” she remarked, 
turning and including them all by a single glance, “Ethel 
is the one dear friend I made, while I was staying with 
Aunt Ellie. Mort and I thought everything of Ethel. 
Where are you going to hide her, Mr. Porter, when you 
land ? ” she inquired of the father. 

“That is just what I am trying to learn.” said Mr. Porter. 
“You see, Ethel needs a quiet place and Mrs. Morriton 
told us you could direct to one.” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


187 


“Thank you, I am able to do so. I know of the nicest 
place you can find upon the earth. Dear, delightful Devon! 
I will give you a letter to a friend there, and you will be 
well-cared for.” She explained the route fully to Mr. 
Porter, and gave him the names of two parties with whom 
she thought they would find accommodation. 

“If you remain there,” she continued, I shall be able 
to see you, as I must go there before returning. Good-bye, 
Ethel, you will soon lose your pale cheeks in this delightful 
place.” With these encouraging words, Beatrice flitted 
away to collect all her paraphernalia. 

Violet’s heart was filled with varied emotions while reach- 
ing the English shore. She experienced the joy of satisfac- 
tion that a long-desired wish had been granted; in fact, the 
one thing for which she had striven many years. Yet, the 
pleasure was mingled with regret; regret over days of sor- 
row; regret over sleepless nights; regret over wasted op- 
portunities; regret over the lost happiness of ten long years; 
regret over the injury which she had given another; regret 
over the rejected blessing; but more than all, the regret of 
regrets over a misspent life. With the new light that had 
gradually dawned upon her life, she knew wherein she had 
erred. “I have struggled,” she thought, “more than the 
patriarch of old. He fought only till the break of day, 
while I have waged the battle for years, before I would 
submit. What strange mortals we are, that we cannot 
receive our blessings in the right way, instead of trying the 
difficult unsurpassable road of self, which always ends in 
disaster. ” 

In spite of all regrets, Violet felt very happy in the knowl- 
edge that she was in the same country as Alan Stuart. 
Could she have seen him she would have acknowledged 
the mistake of the past, with that nobleness of spirit which 
marks the true Christian character. 

The Morritons decided to journey to London and spend 
a few weeks among its historical attractions. Beatrice, 
being so well informed was of valuable assistance to the 


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i88 

party. Her careful study enabled her to furnish many 
incidents, which were forgotten by the others. 

One morning she surprised them by stating she should 
require the day to make Cousin Lan a flying visit. ^Ht is 
necessary for me to see him and make the arrangements 
I told you of. I know you will excuse me, and I trust you 
will have a pleasant time. I may not return till late this 
evening,’’ she added in parting. 

Violet had indulged a secret half-formed idea that Cousin 
Lan” and Alan Stuart might in some inconceivable way, 
be one and the same person. ‘‘What a beautiful reality 
it would be if the ideal proved true!” she mused. “I 
think it must have been the description of this wonderful 
cousin and his similarity to Alan, which first drew me to 
Bee Moreland. But, no, it cannot be! It is impossible! 
It is too good to be true! I will banish the thought from 
my mind. Yet there is something mysterious about him, 
as she would not even tell me his name, when I inquired. 
Alan I am convinced cannot be many miles away. I 
would like to ascertain, but will not force myself to make 
personal inquiries. But, Bee’s cousin must be miles away, 
as she requires not only the whole day but a part of the 
night, to make her call. How absurd I am to allow myself 
to build air-castles again!” 

Violet felt depressed throughout the entire day. She 
allowed Hervey and Elva to go sight seeing without her. 
She had no desire to go without Beatrice, who always kept 
her so busily engaged, there was but little time to brood over 
the past. She begged the privilege of remaining to answer 
an accumulated pile of letters. Yet, the urgent necessity 
of correspondence could not prevent her from an absorbing 
reverie. The letters remained unanswered, that day. 

Mrs. Moreland returned about nine o’clock in the evening, 
much to the* evident joy of all. “I am rejoiced to welcome 
you back. Bee, ” said Violet. “I have missed you all day. ” 

“I am equally delighted to get back,” returned Beatrice, 
wondering what her friends would say if they only knew 
where she had been, and whom she had seen, 


^ CHAPTER XXXI. 

‘‘Tell Me All About Her.” 

Beatrice’s heart was filled with conflicting emotions 
at the thought of meeting her husband’s relative. Many 
changes had taken place since she first came to England as 
a happy bride. Four years had not wholly passed, and, 
yet, it seemed like a decade. But, in the midst of these 
sad reflections, came the comforting assurance that she had 
found a dear friend. One, who had made the dreaded 
journey very pleasant in many little ways. The heart 
overflowed with love for Violet. What had once been idle 
speculation to satisfy a prying curiosity, was lost in the 
blessed bond of sympathy. She wished she might be of 
service, that she could in some way contribute to her welfare. 
For strong and self-reliant as Violet Morriton always 
appeared, Beatrice saw, or fancied she did, signs of a deep 
undercurrent of sadness within the unfathomable depths 
of the expressive eyes. “I can’t seem to do anything,” 
she murmured, “without betraying my watchfulness, so 
I will let the whole matter dropl” This wise conclusion 
found Beatrice at her journey’s end. 

Alan Stuart met his visitor as she alighted from the cab, 
and led her into the cozy sitting-room. “I am so glad to 
welcome you to England again. Cousin Beatrice,” he ex- 
claimed, as she was removing her wraps. “ It is very refresh- 
ing to meet one from home. I know you will pardon my 
impatience, when I ask you to tell me about mother and 
Evelyn. How did you find them, and how are they look- 
ing?” 

“They were both well, but longing to see you,” she an- 
swered. “Cousin Evie told me she was afraid sometimes 
Aunt Sarah would insist upon crossing the ocean to be with 
her boy once more. Her physician has warned her against 
the attempt; yet, the yearning is so strong, Evie thinks 


OUT OF TUNE. 


190 

it will overcome the warning, and fears the worst. Oh, 
Cousin Lan, if you could only send some word to comfort 
and quiet them!’’ 

^‘God grant that it may be in my power!” cried the 
stricken man. “Excuse me, Beatrice, for thinking of 
myself and being so remiss in your welfare. What mis- 
sion has brought you again to this land and what can I do 
to assist you?” 

Beatrice explained the purpose of her visit and gave him 
her full confidence. “You may think me strange, but I 
know I could rest easier if I was assured all my dear ones 
were reposing side by side in the peaceful vales of Devon. 
I knew that you would assist me, and arrange some matters 
better than I could. So, if you will kindly look after things 
here, I will make the necessary arrangements in Germany.” 

“I will gladly do anything that lies in my power to assist 
you,” responded Alan. “I shall be most happy in render- 
ing you this assistance, though it is a sad mission. I deeply 
sympathize with you in this triple bereavement. This is my 
first knowledge of a little son. Truly, you have been 
grievously afflicted! Like the patient Ruth you have 
borne sorrow with a trusting heart! Like her, you clung 
to the sorrowing mother, and never forsook her! Like her, 
you made her people, your people, and her God, your God! 
And like her, may you receive the rich blessings of pros- 
perity!” 

The words fell like a benediction upon the stricken 
woman, assuaging her deep sorrow. “Thank you, so 
much. Cousin Lan, for your great kindness. You are 
just like Mort in your ways, and remind me so much of 
him, that I fancy if I were to close my eyes, and open them, 
I should find him in your place ! ” 

“Would that you might!” said Alan. “But I know of 
no magician who possesses the power of incarnation, so 
our fancies are no avail.” Anxious to turn the drift of 
conversation, he inquired concerning the friends she had 
left in the greaUcity. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


191 

“How are the ladies with whom you are traveling?’’ 
he asked solicitously. “I do not think you mentioned 
their names in your letter; if so, I have forgotten the fact. 
After your return from Germany, I might be of some assist- 
ance in showing the beauties of this wonderful land. You 
may invite them to ‘Happy Haven,’ if you think it best.” 

The longed-for, yet dreaded moment had arrived. She 
hesitated a moment, then looked Alan Stuart frankly in the 
face, and answered, “I came with the Morritons.” 

“Whatl” exclaimed Alan startled from his usual repose 
of manner. “Did I understand you correctly?” 

“Yes,” calmly responded Beatrice, not in the least sur- 
prised at the result of her information. Seeing that Alan’s 
question required an answer, she continued, “Mr. and Mrs. 
Hervey Morriton are on their bridal trip; making a tour 
of the Isles, and the Continent. Hervy married a Miss 
Darling, a music teacher of notoriety. She really is a 
musical wonder, and I know she will sing for you at ‘Happy 
Haven,’ if it lies within her power, as she is very accommo- 
dating. Violet and I came in company with them.” 

“Violet Morriton in England!” he cried to himself. 
“My God, has she come here to torture me! God forbid! 
It cannot be! Give me grace. Oh, Father, to bear this new 
trial!” he pleaded. Raising his eyes he met Beatrice’s 
tender, compassionate look, and exclaimed from the very an- 
guish of his soul, “Oh, Cousin Bee, do go on! Don’t you 
see I am starving for news of her! Tell me all about her\ 
How does she look, and is she the same? You must excuse 
me for being so upset over your information, as I am not 
well this morning and the shock has been too much for 
me.” 

“Perhaps I had better defer all further conversation on 
the subject till some other time. I am sorry to distress 
you,” she answered. 

“No! no!” protested Alan. “Let me hear all, now! 
It is better than to stir the dregs at another time, when 
they have become settled!” 


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had not seen Violet for several years, till I met her, a 
few weeks ago at Mrs. Arthurs’ home. I found her as 
beautiful as ever, only more so. I had heard her spoken 
of as being ‘marble-hearted,’ but saw it was a mistake. 
I had always admired her, but hitherto, she had always 
repulsed me. Strange to say, at this time, we became 
attracted to each other. I knew that you and Violet had 
been separated from some unknown cause, on the eve of 
your marriage. After I met you, here, I wondered what 
the trouble could be, and I asked Mort if he knew the rea- 
son. I never shall forget his reproof, and I let the matter 
drop, though I formed my own idea as to the erring one. 
You see I was debarred from speaking to you about it, 
and I would just as soon have thought of addressing the 
sphynx for information, as to question Violet upon the issue. 
I am sorry for you both; you are the dearest friends to me, 
on earth, and I wish it lay in my power to bring you happi- 
ness. What can I say, or do for you ? ” 

“You can tell me morel ” said Alan. “Tell me all, about 
her! Tell me why she came here! Tell me what she 
does! Tell me everything! Does she know that Mortimer 
was my cousin? Have you told her of the relationship?” 

“No, I have not!” replied Beatrice. “I do not think 
she even suspects such a thing. Mrs. Arthurs and her 
daughters wished to hear about my European trip. I ac- 
ceded to their request, and told them everything of interest. 

I could not refrain from speaking of your great work, at 
‘Happy Haven,’ and the pleasant days we spent there. I 
did not mention the name of the boys’ benefactor, though 
Violet asked it. From some inexplicable reason, I re- 
frained, and led her to think I did not notice the question. 
She did not repeat it, so I was saved from further prevari- 
cation. I have thought, sometimes, that she might asso- 
ciate the Cousin Lan of my narrative with Alan Stuart. 
If she has, no one is the wiser for it, as she keeps her own 
counsel. Now, I think of it, I must date her friendship 
from that time! She sat apparently unmoved through all 


OUT OF TUNE. 


193 

the long, sad recital. She expressed no words of sympathy, 
and I was censuring myself for being so wearisome in por- 
traying the family history. If she had been a hundred 
miles away she could have manifested no less interest. We 
deemed it advisable to leave her in the deep oblivious state 
into which she had penetrated, when she turned to me, and 
nearly upset my equilibrium of good sense by asking if I 
would take her to Europe with me? It really did take 
away my breath for a moment! You may imagine my 
surprise! It was too good to be true! When I found she 
really meant it, my joy could not be restrained. The 
dread of the lonely voyage was removed through no effort 
of mine. And though my mission was very sad, I felt there 
would be much enjoyment in her company. So far, it 
has been greater than I had anticipated. In some un- 
known way, my sorrows become less, instead of larger. 
I attribute it to Violet’s presence, and comforting counsel. 
I think she has changed from what she formerly was. She 
thinks the same of me. Perhaps, we both have grown 
wiser, if not better, with the passing years. We may have 
learned that charity is better censure for another’s faults.” 
‘^God grant it may be so!” said Alan. 

“I don’t think of anything more. Cousin Lan,” said 
Beatrice; ‘‘unless it is a very touching incident which took 
place, just before we landed.” She related the story of 
finding the Porters, and ended by saying, “You see, Violet 
and Mrs. Hervey were both instrumental in soothing the 
invalid, and in enabling me to send them to dear old Devon. 
I wish I might help you a little! Won’t you let me ? ” 
“Most willingly, I would!” assented Alan, “if it were 
possible! I know of no earthly power that can bridge the 
yawning abyss. Only He who notes the sparrow’s fall can 
lead us in the paths of peace for His name’s sake! ” 

“Now, Cousin Lan, I don’t wish to pry into your secrets, 
or Violet’s either, but I would dearly love to ask you one 
question, if you will not think me worse than Eve. ” 

“I gladly grant the permission;” answered Alan, little 
dreaming what was waiting upon his inquisitor’s tongue. 


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‘^Aren’t you and Violet engaged?’’ queried Beatrice, 
availing herself of the granted permission. 

“Certainly not!” replied Alan. “We are as widely 
separated as strangers. I have never received one word 
from her since we parted in the long ago. What could have 
suggested such an impossibility?” 

“Nothing; only that Violet wears the engagement ring, and 
I thought it might possibly be, ” she answered from a philo- 
sophical standpoint. 

“I am utterly incredulous as regards your statement, 
Beatrice,” retorted Alan. “You must have been mistaken.” 

“No, I was not,” she earnestly affirmed. “I can assure 
you to the contrary. I have seen the inside of the ring. 
A few days ago, after returning from a pleasure trip, Violet 
and I entered our private parlor, at the hotel. We removed 
our wraps, gloves, and hats, and seated ourselves to recover 
from the day’s fatigue. In the midst of our cozy chat, 
Violet startled me by springing up, and exclaiming, ‘Oh, 
Bee, I have lost my ring!’ She felt very anxious about its 
loss. I tried to comfort her by saying perhaps she had not 
worn it that day. She assured me that she had, and stated 
that she never removed it. ‘ I will go to my room and make 
a thorough search, as it might have dropped from my 
finger; it is a little loose,’ she said, and left me. 

“I felt an almost uncontrollable desire to learn the history 
of that little golden token. I knew that it must be an inter- 
esting one, from Violet’s great anxiety. I jumped up, and 
began searching, as if my life depended upon it. I moved 
and looked carefully under every article of furniture which 
came within my power. I think I even went beyond the 
scrutiny of the prim New England housewives, in my 
thorough search. I had given up in despair when a happy 
thought ran through my brain. I acted upon it, and found 
the coveted treasure. It was lying concealed in one of the 
fingers of the glove. As I took it from its hiding place, 

I saw these words: Alan — Mizpah — Violet. I was con- 
vinced. My suspicions were verified. I felt I must intrude 
upon Violet’s privacy and restore her property. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


19s 

‘T did so, and the joy which she expressed more than 
repaid the pains I had taken. 

Thank you, so much, Beel’ she cried, kissing me affec- 
tionately. ‘ What should I do without you ! You have proved 
a veritable blessing. I prize this ring more than all the 
jewels in my possession. It is a memento from a very 
dear friend. Sometime, perhaps, I may tell you its secret.^ 
Tears of happiness filled her eyes, as we returned to the 
parlor. 

“‘What a topsy-turvy appearance this room presents!’ 
she exclaimed, as she attempted to roll an easy chair into 
position. ‘ What is the matter ? ’ 

“ ‘ Nothing 1 ’ I meekly replied. ‘ I have only been hunting 
for lost goods, when there was no necessity, as they were 
close at hand.’ ” 

“My explanation restored our usual state of enjoyment, 
and we took up the broken thread of conversation, though 
the knowledge of the affair has never left me. 

“This story must convince you, Alan! What other proof 
is necessary! Can there be any? Don’t the fact prove 
that Violet considers herself bound to you? Oh, that I 
might be able to remove the barrier existing between you 
two!” 

“God be praised!” ejaculated Alan. “It is true! No 
other than myself gave that ring to Violet. Dear Beatrice, 
you have brought me good news, indeed. It has burst 
like a ray of sunshine athwart a cloudy sky. As pearly 
drops of dew refresh the parching earth, so your cheering 
words have refreshed my thirsting heart! The sunshine 
brings happiness; the dew sustains; blessed truths of 
revelation! May I never faint. Oh, Father, while Thy 
truth remains!” 

“Cousin Lan, why don’t you call on us?” said Beatrice, 
interrupting his prayer. It would be the most natural 
thing to do in the world, don’t you think so ? ” 

“I cannot agree with you! Under the existing circum- 
stances, it would be very improper for me to do so! You 


196 


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do not understand why I cannot intrude upon your friend; 
but, let me assure you, if it lay within my power, I would 
gladly avail myself of your kind invitation. I shall patiently 
wait, and trust till the way is opened. So much has been 
granted, more than I ever dared to hope for, that my faith 
is strengthened. I am encouraged to press on in the Mas- 
ter’s service. His Hand may lift the veil and allow me to 
enjoy the golden fruition of hope! And, now, my dear 
little peace-maker, let me say, in conclusion, it is better to 
let the matter rest where it is. You can use your own 
judgment as regards the revelation of my identity. Should 
you, at any time, make it known, and Violet expresses a 
wish to see me, tell her, I am patiently waiting. She will 
readily understand my meaning. Until that time arrives, 
keep the message. Let me hear of your movements, and 
I will render any assistance within my power. I hope to 
meet you, again, before you return to America. I will 
make all the necessary arrangements at Devon.” 

Alan accompanied Beatrice to the city and even to the 
hotel where she was stopping. He remained in the cab 
till he saw her enter the house in safety; then hurried away 
to catch the last train for home. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

‘‘Thou Shalt Find It After Many Days.^’ 

Beatrice and Violet were disappointed in leaving Lon- 
don. Each felt discouraged over her own secret failures. 
Beatrice had failed, as we have seen, in the endeavor of 
reconciliation. She felt that, in a measure, her visit to 
Cousin Lan was lost. She had met him with the brightest 
of hopes; she left him carrying the same hopes, but their 
buoyancy had fallen, and they were very burdensome. 

Violet on the other hand, had been unsuccessful in gain- 
ing any real knowledge concerning Alan Stuart. She 
knew no more of his work, and the scene of his labors, than 
she did at home. She was too sensitive to make direct 
inquiries, or seek information in the right quarter. The 
places selected for the tourists did not lead to his vicinity; 
so, she was prohibited from obtaining any glimpse of the 
great philanthropist, or his works. 

The trip to Paris came as a relief to both. Mr. and Mrs. 
Hervey thought they would like to spend some time in the 
beautiful city and its vicinity. It was Elva’s first visit to 
the gay metropolis, and she entered fully into the enjoy- 
ment of everything with that zeal which always charac- 
terizes the novice. 

Beatrice remained only a day with them, being very 
anxious to visit the Herrs. She promised to join them, in a 
week, and travel through Italy, Switzerland, and Germany. 
Violet accompanied her. 

The journey led through a pleasant country. Yet, 
its varied scenery attracted but a passing notice from either 
of the two ladies. Sad memories filled the lonely heart as 
Beatrice passed through the scenes of her former happiness. 

Violet was busy with her own reflections, and did not 
care for conversation. She had arrived at that point of 
self-examination which permitted a fair judgment. The 


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scales had fallen from her eyes, allowing a clear vision. In 
the new light which had burst upon her soul in glorious 
splendor, she saw the fault was all her own. Before its 
searching rays, the old imaginary wrongs shriveled and 
faded away; she knew her hand, alone had ruthlessly marred 
her life. Amid the harrowing thoughts came the words 
of the poet Whittier, 

‘‘For of sad words of tongue or pen. 

The saddest are these: ‘It might have beenP’’ 

Beatrice and Violet reached the little German village of 
L — , in the early part of the evening and proceeded to the 
home of the Herrs. They were met by Lena who aston- 
ished them by exclaiming, “ Oh, Mrs. Moreland, I am so glad 
you have come!’’ 

“I knew you would be,” said Beatrice. “I felt an irre- 
sistible longing to see you all, and the dear old place once 
more. So, I persuaded my friend. Miss Morriton, to come 
with me. I hope you can accommodate us with rooms 
for a few days. Do sit down, and tell us all about every- 
thing. Has little Eddie entirely recovered? Where is 
he? And—” 

“Excuse me, please, Mrs. Moreland,” said Lena, inter- 
rupting the steady stream of questions. Did you not come 
in answer to my numerous letters? Have you received 
no word from me? Do you know nothing about the little 
boy? Have you seen no advertisements to you in the 
papers?” 

“No, indeed! I have seen neither letters nor notices! 
I have received no letters from you for nearly a year. The 
one you wrote about Eddie was very encouraging, and I 
thought by this time he would be hale and strong. Ex- 
plain the meaning of your mysterious questions, and set 
my heart to rest, Lena, dear.” 

“Oh, Mrs. Moreland, I was not thinking of my boy, who 
has been saved through the great kindness of your husband. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


199 


but of your own little one. He lives, and is improving 
daily. He is very cunning and dear to me. I love him 
as my own, and shall be sorry to part with him.” 

^‘My baby alive!” cried Beatrice incredulously. “Im- 
possible! They told me he was dead! That he died of 
hemorrhage, or something like it!” 

“ Dr. B — thought so, at first, and we all did. We even 
went so far as to have a little place prepared for him, in our 
lot. The baby looked so life-like, I spoke to the doctor 
about it. He said, Ht may be possible, but not probable. 
No child can survive after such a severe hemorrhage! If 
it were possible, he would be an idiot! Better a painless 
death than hopeless imbecility!’ I told him I wished he 
would allow me to try. He directed me to administer a 
drop of brandy every hour, and note carefully the result; 
also to watch closely against another hemorrhage. I 
followed his instructions minutely and when he returned 
in a few hours, he informed me that I had saved the tiny 
life! He remarked that it was very frail, and there was a 
chance of recovery, though the odds were against it. Hf 
he survives, another will be added to the list of unfortu- 
nates.’ 

“I wished to communicate the good news to Mr. More- 
land, but the Doctor would not allow it upon any considera- 
tion. ^We will wait and see,’ he said. ‘Nothing can be 
gained or lost. He considers his son dead, and a few days 
longer can make no difference. The mother does not 
realize her loss, so you will follow my directions. I will 
give the case very close attention, but dare not promise 
more than I have told you. Take the infant to your room, 
and see that it disturbs no one. It is too weak at present 
to test its lungs. Caution your mother about the case.’ 

“I enlisted the services of the old sexton to replace the 
earth which had been removed in the cemetery. He was 
old and childish, and really supposed he was making a 
grave. It also conveyed the same knowledge to the curious 
public, Even Mr. Moreland visited what he supposed to 


200 


OUT OF TUNE. 


be his baby’s grave, before leaving us. I hope, Mrs. More- 
land, that you are convinced.” 

‘T am!” cried Beatrice. ^‘Take me to my boy at once! 
Let me clasp him in my arms ! I shall believe then! Come, 
Violet, and see this miracle!” 

They followed Lena to an upper room, and beheld a 
child sleeping quietly within its crib with the rosy bloom 
of health upon its cheeks. ‘^Oh, my precious boy!” cried 
Beatrice, rushing to the crib; seizing the little one, she 
clasped him close to her bosom, and nearly smothered him 
with kisses. 

The child roused from its slumbers by such unusual 
actions, opened its eyes in surprise. He looked up with a 
sweet smile and faintly lisped “mamma,” then closed his 
drowsy lids in sleep. 

“Oh, Lena, have you told him about his parents?” 
she asked, as she sat down with the sleeping child. 

“Yes, I have daily instilled the knowledge into his little 
mind, though I think he does not fully comprehend it yet, ” 
answered Lena, conscientiously. “He calls me mamma.” 

“Why shouldn’t he?” asked Beatrice. “You are his 
foster-mother. I wish Mort could have been spared to 
see this day! But, perhaps, he knows more about it than 
I do. Now, tell me all about it. When did the physician 
remove his restrictions and allow you to send the thrilling 
intelligence?” 

“Nearly six months ago,” answered Lena. “He watched 
him as closely as his practice would permit, often visiting 
him, two and three times a day. You may remember, I 
was away from home when you left; that I was taking 
charge of a very serious case. Baby Moreland was my 
patient, and needed my services more than his mother, who 
was convalescent. “When you began to improve, and 
commenced questioning about the little one, my hardship 
began. I did not know how to deceive you, and baby had 
not gained very much then. The doctor said it would be 
better to remove the child to another place while you re- 
mained, That explains the reason of my leaving you to 


OUT OF TUNE. 


201 


the care of another. I felt I could never let you depart 
without betraying the whole matter. As soon as I received 
permission, I wrote you a letter telling the glad news. I 
sent to England. After a while, receiving no answer, I 
wrote again; the first letter was returned with the statement 
that no such person was there. Then I thought of adver- 
tising in the English and German papers. I have done so 
regularly once in three or four weeks. I have also, sent 
letters to France, where I knew you had resided, but all to 
no avail; they were returned with the same report. I knew 
the attempt to find you in America would be as useless 
as the others had been. Yet, I had decided if I did not 
hear from you soon to send word to a cousin in Boston, 
and have him insert notices in the leading papers. I have 
left no stone unturned that might reveal the truth. 

“I can never thank you enough, dear Lena, for your 
faithfulness 1^’ said Beatrice. “This must explain the 
great longing which filled my very soul at times and the 
irresistible drawing which I could not smother. I came 
blindly to perform a sad mission; I imagined I could rest 
easier if all my loved ones were together in the peaceful 
shades of Devon. I came to make the arrangement, and 
see you all, once more. And, lo! all my sorrow is turned 
to joy! ^Praise the Lord for His goodness, and for His 
wonderful works to the children of menl ’ Truly, the bread, 
which Mort cast upon the waters, has been found after 
many days!’’ 

A portion of the ample provision which Mortimer More- 
land had so generously made for little Eddie Herr had been 
used for his own son. The cup of cold water given in the 
Master’s name had met its reward. 

“My great happiness is making me forgetful of others, 
I am afraid,” said Beatrice. Lena, will you ask your 
mother and Eddie to make me a call? I am afraid of 
disturbing baby, and cannot go to them.” 

Mrs. Herr and the grandson gladly accepted the invita- 
tion, and extended a warm hand of welcome and congrat- 
ulation, 


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Eddie was greatly changed from the little cripple of two 
years ago. The wish of his life had been granted him; 
he could walk and run like other boys. 

Mrs. Herr^s large motherly heart overflowed with joy for 
the happy little mother. ‘ ‘ I told Lena everything would come 
out all right, if she let the Lord have His own way! There 
is no use in fighting against His will. We might just as 
well submit, first as last. We all have to, any way! I 
am glad, dearie, you have your little lad again, though I 
shall be loth to part with him. May the blessing of heaven 
rest upon you and yours! The great Father has griev- 
ously afflicted you! He has removed the strong protecting 
arm of husband and father! Yet He has not left you com- 
fortless, nor forsaken you! He has graciously restored the 
little babe. He fanned the tiny spark with His own breath, 
and would not allow it to die. He comes to you as a rich 
legacy. May he follow in the footsteps of his father, and 
become a noble-hearted man! Your arms are no longer 
empty; the work of training your son lies before you. May 
you bring him up in the Tear and admonition of the Lord! ’ ’’ 

The words of Mother Herr fell like a benediction upon 
the joyful mother. ‘‘Thank you!’’ was all she could utter, 
through her tears of joy. 

Shortly afterwards she left the room with Eddie. Lena 
followed, excusing herself on the plea of household matters. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Cousin Lan’s Message. 

‘^Violet, if you don’t mind, I would like to hold baby 
till he wakes. I want to see whom he looks like. I can 
trace Mort’s resemblance in his features, but I did not 
catch the color of the eyes. You will not feel neglected, 
will you?” Beatrice asked. 

^^Not in the least I” answered Violet. was thinking 
very deeply of Mrs. Herr’s blessing upon you, and the 
truth of her words. I felt as though she was uttering them 
for me.” 

‘‘Yes, they were applicable to any one. What a blessed 
old soul she is!” remarked Beatrice, changing the position 
of the child, in order that her arm might be relieved of the 
weight upon it. 

The act roused the child from his sleep, and he gazed 
into the mother’s face with wonderment. “Oh, Violet!” 
exclaimed Beatrice; “he has Alan’s eyes! Yes, he resem- 
bles Alan more than Mort!” she added. 

“Do you mean my Alan?” asked Violet betraying un- 
consciously the heart’s long-hidden secret. 

“Yes,” calmly answered Beatrice, seeing that an oppor- 
tune moment had arrived. “Your Alan is the only one I 
know! He is Mortimer’s own cousin, and the two resem- 
bled each other so closely it was hard for a stranger to dis- 
tinguish them apart. Do look, Violet, and see if I am not 
right! See if he isn’t the image of Alan Stuart! ” 

Violet obeyed the request, and found the statement 
coincided with her own vision. “You are right. Bee, I 
see the resemblance,” she said, in those sad tones which 
one uses when speaking of the dead. 

“Would you like to hold him a little while?” asked 
Beatrice as though she was granting a great favor. 

“No I thank you, Bee. I am always afraid to touch a 


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baby for fear I may break it, or let it fall,’’ she replied 
shrinking from its side. 

‘^Oh, my baby has passed that stage of existence!” said 
Beatrice, with grave assurance. He is getting to be quite 
a young man. He can walk about quite steadily. I 
think I shall call him Theo,” she continued. ‘‘You see 
his name is Mortimer Theodore. I could never call him for 
his father; it would seem as though I was calling Mort 
from heaven. So I shall use the middle name, wouldn’t 
you ? ” 

“I suppose so,” answered Violet. 

The sad tones of the answer drew Beatrice’s attention 
from her child to Violet. “Dear Vi, I am so sorry for you! 
Can’t we right the trouble? Can’t you forgive Alan? 
Look into my Theo’s eyes and see if you cannot?” 

“You labor under a grave mistake. Bee, I have nothing 
to forgive. I wish I could tell you the story, but I feel un- 
equal to the task to-night. I can only say that I am the one 
who has wrecked two happy lives.” 

“Pooh!” said Beatrice. “Don’t cherish any such delu- 
sion! Suppose you did run onto the shoals, through a 
mistake, is there any reason why you should stay there?” 

“Alas, Bee! you do not understand. I am afraid I 
never can be rescued from the dangerous position in which 
I have hedged myself for so many years. ” 

“Understand!” reiterated Beatrice. “I understand 
enough to assure you of happiness, and from many things, 
that you and Alan are both unhappy. What more could I 
gain if either of you were to rehearse all the harrowing 
scenes of your life. Whatever unpleasantness there may 
have been is no concern of mine. If you are the erring 
one, acknowledge it. It is easy to seek forgiveness when 
one has done wrong; it brings such a blessed feeling of 
satisfaction. Cousin Lan, I know, will grant you absolu- 
tion from any wrong. ” 

“Then Cousin Lan and Alan are one and the same 
person!” said Violet. “Tell me. Bee, all about him; how 
he looks and so forth. Did you tell him I was with you ? ” 


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205 


told you everything, Vi, dear, when I told you of that 
‘ mysterious Cousin Lan ’ who was devoting his life to doing 
good to others. You may remember that I said he looked 
as though he had some great sorrow. He looks the 
same now, as then; only he has grown sadder, and looks 
older; I actually saw gray hairs around his temples. He 
v/as much affected by the information that you were here. 
I wished you could have seen him; he looked so down- 
hearted, you would have pitied him. Then he tries to bear 
his grief or disappointment, or whatever you may term it so 
patiently my very soul goes out to him in sympathy.’^ 

think, Vi dear, you two are living at cross purposes. 
I seem to be a go-between with you both. First, he seeks 
all the information I can furnish concerning you. Then, 
you do the same in regard to him. I related the incident 
connected with the ring ; your anxiety over its loss, and your 
exultation at its restoration. I even told him your remarks 
when you placed it again upon your finger. And, I also 
said, I had seen the inscription which it bore. You may 
think me an old ^Poll Pry’, Violet, but I am awful glad I 
looked at it; it confirmed what I had suspected for some 
time. It brought the first ray of light and hope upon Alan’s 
brow. At first he could not trust his ears. He was utterly 
incredulous! Talk about having faith, I think a minister 
is the most faithless of all mortals! After many repetitions 
of the same he was finally convinced. Then he was so 
exhilarated, I should not have been surprised if he had 
danced for joy. He murmured a prayer of praise and 
thanksgiving. 

‘^Matters were adjusting themselves so finely, I invited 
Cousin Lan to call upon us. When, lo! all my endeavors 
were fruitless! He met them with a firm though gentle 
refusal. He said something like being ^ debarred from such 
a privilege.’ Further remonstrance was useless, and I was 
obliged to return as I had come with the difficulty no nearer 
a settlement. As I was about to depart he sent a message 
to you. ‘Tell Violet, if she ever speaks of me, that I am 


2o6 


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patiently waiting.’ He added that you would understand 
his meaning, and I saw that any further concession would 
not be granted.” 

am extremely grateful to you, Bee, for your sympathy, 
and great kindness. Alan’s message is of priceless value. 
It restores me to the old place in his affections. I wish I 
might see him, and remove the barrier which pride has 
thrown between us. What would you advise me to do?” 
she asked anxiously. 

“From what I know of the matter, I would advise you 
to do as the children do, ” answered Beatrice demurely. 

“What is that?” asked Violet expect ingly. 

“They always kiss and make up; it might be an amicable 
adjustment in your case,” she added. 

“Do be serious. Bee! I am in too perilous a situation 
to be met with such a frivolous manner. Can you suggest 
nothing?” 

“Forgive me, Vi, but remember that child-like simplicity 
is one of the first requisites of a Christian character. I 
was simply suggesting the easiest way out of the labyrinth. 
The only way remaining is to go to him, and satisfy the 
demands of conscience. I will go as your chaperon if you 
wish.” 

“Will you, really. Bee?” Will you leave your new- 
found treasure to go with me? I am too selfish to require 
it!” 

“Not at all!” cheerfully replied Beatrice. “I am so 
happy myself, I would like others to be so. And, if such 
a small thing as my accompanying you to England can give 
you happiness, I am more than pleased to render my services. 
As to leaving my little one, I shall have no anxiety. Lena 
can take better care of him than I can, and I shall not 
worry in the least, I can assure you.” 

“Then we will go! Alan is patiently waiting! We will 
relieve- his faithful watch! When shall we start?” she 
asked. 

“To-morrow morning, if you like,” replied Beatrice. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


207 


‘^The proper time to remedy a wrong is when one is in the 
repentant mood. The sooner the better. I will inform 
the family of our decision, explaining that a matter of busi- 
ness calls me away. I am reminded that I am teaching 
my boy acts of subordination, by holding him when he is 
asleep. He will expect it, another time, and rebel if he 
can’t have his way. I wish you would find Lena, and ask 
her to come and relieve me.” 

Beatrice informed Lena of the plans for the next day, 
saying she had found it necessary to return to London at 
once on account of very important business. She would 
leave her Cousin Lan’s address, in case she required it, though 
she hoped to keep her informed concerning her where- 
abouts. may return in a week or two,” she said. “I 
cannot tell yet. Now, Lena, can I send a message to 
London to-night?” 

She was informed that she must wait till morning. Lena 
was greatly astonished when Beatrice informed her, that 
they would require only one room as they wished to sleep 
together and talk over things, like girls. 

The wish was granted; they shared the same bed. 
am too happy to sleep 1” said Beatrice. “I can under- 
stand the feelings of that poor Zidonian widow whose son 
the Prophet restored. How happy she must have felt ! ” 

‘‘Yes,” assented Violet. “Though I do not recall the 
fact. I am very ignorant of Bible stories. I have only 
faint glimmerings of the beautiful truths falling from 
mamma’s gentle lips, when I was a little child. The won- 
derful events are strangely mingled with the fairy tales of 
youth. I wish you would refresh my memory.” 

Beatrice related the incidents connected with Elijah’s 
visit to Zarephath. Violet listened with great interest. 
The recital carried her back to the scenes of childhood, 
when the heart was pure and innocent, and bright with 
its implicit faith. In looking through the vistas of life, she 
could say with Solomon. “Remember now thy Creator 
in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor 


OUT OF TUNE. 


the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, ‘ I have no pleasure 
in them. ’ ’’ 

‘^Yes, there are many points of resemblance in your 
family history,’^ resumed Violet. ^‘Both have seen the 
miraculous power of God displayed in the restoration of 
the only son. While Mr. Moreland’s wise provision kept 
the oil and meal from wasting away. I cannot sleep; but 
it is not from happiness, rather the want of it. My brain 
is too busy with retrospection and it brings only regret. ” 

Violet and Beatrice talked on through the silent watches 
of the night. The first gray streaks of dawn were stealing 
softly across the eastern horizon, ere they closed their eyes 
in sleep. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Mrs. Butler’s Resentment. 

Beatrice and Violet departed on their journey at an 
early hour on the following morning. They were too much 
excited over the recent events to feel the need of sleep. At 
the parting, each gave little Theo Moreland a most affec- 
tionate embrace which he received with great wonderment. 

Beatrice sent a telegram to Cousin Lan, telling him of 
her intentions. It was rather an ambiguous dispatch, 
and ran as follows, ‘‘Do nothing till you hear from me. 
Have received a great surprise. Will see you soon.” 
“There, ” she said, after reading it to Violet, “it will prepare 
him for something, he won’t know what.” 

“I agree with you,” said Violet. “For a more unin- 
telligible message I never heard.” 

The day was passed in retracing the journey of the previ- 
ous day. Nothing out of the ordinary presented itself. 
At night they reached Paris, and proceeded to the hotel 
where they had left their companions. 

Mr. and Mrs. Hervey welcomed their return with joy 
though greatly surprised. Beatrice explained the situation, 
telling of the great blessing which had been bestowed upon 
her life, and concluded by saying, “It makes it absolutely 
necessary for me to go to London. I have important busi- 
ness to transact with Cousin Lan and Violet will accom- 
pany me. ” 

“What an anomaly you are!” exclaimed Violet, when 
they were alone. “You are so apparently open in your 
communications, and yet so mysterious. I think you would 
excel as an expert in the detective profession. Aren’t you 
going to London wholly on my account ? ” she asked. 

“Not by any means!” protested Beatrice. “I really 
must see Cousin Lan about baby. I want his advice about 
many things. I look upon him as my son’s guardian. I 
know Mort would have desired it.” 


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persisted Violet, could you not have arranged 
matters by letter or telegram?’’ 

‘‘No, indeed!” she responded. “I never do business 
in that way, when I can interview the party. And what 
better time than the present, could there possibly be! I 
trust, Vi, dear, you are not looking backward, after putting 
your hand to the plow.” 

“No,” reluctantly answered Violet, convinced against 
her will. “But, I am learning that you are an enigma 
which baffles all solution. ” 

“Let me give you a little advice,” said Beatrice with a 
solemn air. “Don’t try, it will be utterly useless as I 
don’t know my own mind twenty-four hours ahead.” 

After a night’s rest, Violet and Beatrice bade the Morri- 
tons adieu, the second time, and resumed their journey. 
The day passed pleasantly away; good connections were 
enabling them to reach the parsonage by nightfall. 

Mrs. Butler, the housekeeper, was amazed to find Mrs. 
Moreland when she answered the bell. “ Do come right in, 
with your friend, my dear,” she exclaimed delightfully. 
“Mr. Stuart is out on an errand of mercy, but will soon be 
here. Make yourselves comfortable in the sitting-room, 
while I get you a cup of tea.” She bustled around the 
orderly room, upsetting its precision, and chatting all the 
while. “I am so glad you have come, dearie, it will cheer 
the parson up. He has been very quiet and gloomy of 
late, as though something was preying on his mind, ” she 
remarked, leaving the room. 

“What a change a few hours will make in one’s destiny,” 
said Beatrice. “A little while ago, I was a broken-hearted 
woman. To-day I am one of the happiest of mothers. ” 

“Yes,” assented Violet, “a nation may rise or fall in a 
day. ” 

“If you will excuse me a few minutes, Vi, I will tell Mrs. 
B. not to put herself to any trouble on our account. I dare 
say, though, she always has plenty in store, with which to 
feed the hungry. But it may not be just what she would 
like to place before the parson’s guests.” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


211 


Violet nodded assent, and Beatrice flitted away to find the 
housekeeper. Going into the kitchen, she found her lighting 
a fire; she rushed up to her, and nearly took her breath 
away in a strong embrace and a resounding kiss, exclaim- 
ing. O Auntie B., I am the happiest little body in the wide, 
wide world 

^‘You certainly appear to be,’’ rejoined the sober matron 
intent upon her household duties. ^^You are like a sun- 
beam.” 

‘‘Do sit down, you dear old soul and let me tell you the 
wonderful news which has come to me,” urged Beatrice. 

“As soon as I light the fire, and fill the kettle, so the water 
may boil. I let the fire down after tea, it was so warm. 
We had it early, so Mr. Stuart could go to the Frosts, and 
return before dark,” she continued working and talking 
at the same time. “But you must not mind me, when your 
friend is sitting all alone in the other room.” 

“Never mind her. She will be all right. She is an old 
friend of Cousin Lan’s, and if he should happen in she could 
entertain him,” observed Beatrice with a wise toss of the 
head. 

Apparently satisfied Mrs. Butler sat down with her knit- 
ting, and listened to the remarkable narration of Mrs. More- 
land’s life. Her marriage, her sojourn abroad, the birth, 
and the supposed death of her child. 

“Just think, I came to see Cousin Lan to have him make 
arrangements about interring his remains in Devon,” 
said she. “I visit the Herrs and find a hale, hearty boy 
of nineteen months. Don’t you think it the best fairy 
story you ever heard?” 

It is a great miracle,” solemnly answered Mrs. Butler, 
rising to remove the boiling tea-kettle. “But I think I 
heard Mr. Stuart enter the house, just now, and you had 
better return, and leave me to arrange a little lunch. I 
wish I had time to make a pan of biscuits; it would help 
out wonderfully.” . 

“Can’t you see, you blind old dear?” cried Beatrice. 


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want to stay with you awhile. If you wish to see Alan 
Stuart the happiest man on earth, just allow him five minutes 
to renew his friendship with Violet Morriton. You will 
have plenty of time for your biscuits, or even to roast a chick- 
en, before either of them will miss me. By all means, 
you can venture upon the making of your desirable rolls.’’ 

“You dear child!” said the enlightened woman. “Is 
this the lady who sent Alan Stuart out into the world, all 
alone, to do his great work of helping the poor ? Is this 
the one who broke her engagement to the best man that 
ever lived, because he became a minister of the gospel? 
If so, God forgive her, I never can!” she declared most 
emphatically. 

“I don’t know any of the particulars of their separation. 
Auntie; Violet was once engaged to Alan, and the engage- 
ment was broken from some unknown cause. I don’t 
think any one knows the reality of the case in spite of all 
the surmises. I know Violet is one of the noblest women 
that lives. Whatever may have been the cause of their 
misunderstanding it is not for me to say. I think you must 
have listened to the gossips for information.” 

“Nay, nay, my child! I have all my knowledge from the 
right source. I have known Alan Stuart from a boy. I 
was housekeeper in the Stuart household for many years, 
before I crossed the broad ocean to watch over the interests 
of the only son, at the mother’s earnest wish. His sister 
Evelyn and I have talked it over many a time. Has he 
not made himself an exile from home for years on account 
of this woman, let me ask you? Is not his poor mother’s 
heart breaking over the absence of her child ? What power 
can that lady hold over him to keep him from his mother?” 

“I cannot answer your questions. Auntie,” said Beatrice, 
much affected at the result of her information. “But, 
I can safely assure you, that the estrangement will be ended 
when a satisfactory explanation has been made. If Alan 
and Violet are satisfied, it would be wrong for any of us not 
to be. We should rejoice with them, instead of spreading 
thorns of bitterness in their way.” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


213 


‘‘You may be right!’’ said the wavering woman. “Yet 
it is very hard to sweep away the prejudices of years, in a 
few moments. The Lord forgive my stubborn heart! 
I find that it does not grow as mellow with age as I thought. 
No one will rejoice more than I shall, at any good fortune 
which may fall to Mr. Stuart. Fie deserves the best. Ffis 
lot has been very hard to bear. I will try the biscuits, as 
you think there will be sufficient time.” 

“And I will rest here, till you are ready to join me, unless 
Violet and Alan come in search of me. Though I dare 
say by this time, they have forgotten my existence.” Bea- 
trice settled herself in a large, old-fashioned rocker, with 
the evening paper to await results. 

Mrs. Butler went to the pantry and carefully measured 
the necessary materials. She vigorously stirred the in- 
gredients, stirring, at the same time, all her resentment 
away. She called Anna, the housemaid, and instructed 
her to lay the best damask cloth upon the table, and bring 
out the rare old china. “It will at least show the New 
York lady that Mr. Stuart has not been neglected in this 
strange land,” she thought. 

Anna brought forth jellies, preserves, and pickles from 
the well-filled store-room, in addition to cold meats. A 
tempting repast was quickly provided through her deft 
fingers. She had scented that something extraordinary 
v/as transpiring, and thought she would sustain the credit 
of the house by displaying the best which it afforded. She 
even went so far as to visit the kitchen-garden, and pick a 
large dish of raspberries, by means of a lantern. “They 
cannot help being good, with the dew on them,” she mused. 
She could think of nothing more, unless it was a few flowers. 
So she called upon the roses, and gently roused the sleeping 
beauties from their emerald beds by telling them, “I need 
you to grace other beauty.” 

Everything was satisfactorily arranged. It was pro- 
nounced perfect ; it stood the penetrating test of the matron’s 
scrutiny. She bustled about from kitchen to pantry and 


214 


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dining-room, going the rounds in the same rotation till all 
was finished. ‘‘There!’’ she exclaimed, “I hope they will 
come before things spoil!” 

Beatrice had quietly remained in her seat, watching the 
elaborate preparations for a “little lunch.” “I wonder 
if she is trying to heap coals of fire upon Violet’s head,” 
she murmured. 

Mrs. Butler joined Beatrice, and resumed her knitting. 
“I am afraid the biscuits will spoil, waiting for them,” 
she said, as she knit the stitches from one needle to another. 
“I have been thinking that if Miss Morriton could bury her 
pride so deep, as to come all this ways to see Mr. Stuart, 
I had better bury mine, and treat her like a lady. And, 
I have made up my mind to abide by the promptings of a 
Christian spirit.” 

“Well spoken. Auntie! like your own true self! I don’t 
believe you could harbor an ill-feeling, very long, if you 
tried!” said Beatrice, delighted at the change of opinion 
in the old lady’s mind. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


HAVE Come to Comfort YouP’ 

Alan Stuart had visited the Frosts and ministered unto 
their needs both materially and spiritually. The family 
were in great distress. The father was suffering from the 
effects of a fever, and much disturbed that he was unable to 
provide for the wants of his household. He found it very 
trying to receive charity, and in his heart cursed God for 
his misfortune. Mr. Stuart, with the help of the patient, 
uncomplaining wife labored faithfully to point out the true 
way of life to the afflicted man. He contributed a sufflcient 
amount each week for the family support, and employed 
an eminent physician. So far, his efforts had been received 
with sullen thanks. His spiritual advice had met with only 
rebuffs, falling apparently upon stony ground. The knowl- 
edge, however, did not discourage him, but tended to a 
more earnest endeavor. He promised to obtain work for 
him, whenever he was able to undertake it. He could 
furnish manuscript for him to copy, for some time ; and he 
knew of others who could do the same. He left the man in 
a more cheerful frame of mind with this prospect of remu- 
neration awaiting him. 

He retraced his steps slowly to the parsonage. His heart 
was filled with sorrow. He had suffered so deeply himself, 
that he could fully sympathize with the stricken ones of 
earth. Only those who have borne like sorrows can con- 
ceive of the depths of grief into which the soul is plunged. 
He felt, that like the Master, he was a man of sorrows, 
and one acquainted with grief. 

His life was a sacrifice of self, for the alleviation of dis- 
tress among his fellow-creatures. He could relieve others 
of their burdens, but patiently bore his own without relief. 
“Give me grace, O, Lord, sufficient for the dayT’ was his 
constant prayer. 


2i6 


OUT OF TUNE. 


On his homeward way, he watched the sun sink slowly 
down amid the western glow. He saw the brilliant hues 
of crimson, amber, and amethyst fade imperceptibly into 
the warm twilight gray, wondering how much fairer the 
heavenly glory could be. “How typical, it is of my life!’’ 
said he as he reached the house. “The roseate hues of 
youth have faded away, and left me, only the gray. ” 

Fie silently entered the house with his latch-key thinking 
deeply of Violet. “What strange persistency of fate is it, 
that keeps her image constantly before me?” he asked 
himself. He placed his hat upon the hall table and entered 
the sitting-room for a few moments’ chat with Mrs. Butler, 
concerning the Frosts. 

The fast-gathering twilight did not permit him to see 
the occupant of the room very clearly, and the supposition 
that it could be other than his devoted housekeeper never 
entered his mind. He threw himself down in a comfortable 
chair and leaned his head upon his hand, saying, “I am 
actually so tired. Auntie B., I think a cup of your fragrant 
tea would refresh me. I found Mr. Frost in an extremely 
bad mood. He was railing against Providence for placing 
him in the position of a pauper, and I found it very difficult 
to converse with him. How strange, that trouble should 
turn us away from the Father, instead of leading us to him, 
thereby strengthening the relationship. I learned that he 
had been a journalist before coming here, and promised 
him plenty of work, as soon as he was able to perform it. 
It is better to give a starving man a loaf of bread than one 
of the Father’s promises. He can assimilate it better. 
Afterwards, when stronger, he may receive the meat. I 
think. Auntie, I must try and arrange an outing for him 
and his family at ‘Happy Haven,’ this summer. The beau- 
ties of the place would certainly inspire him. I find my 
walk home amid the sunset’s glow has made me prosy, 
so I will rest here, awhile before going to the study.” 

He ceased talking and centered his thoughts upon that 
ever-wandering sprite which constantly came between him 


OUT OF TUNE. 


217 


and whatever he undertook. It led him away from the 
gloomy past, to the bright future. It spanned the chasm 
of the years, with a single bound. ^^O, tantalizing vision 
of happiness, why do you torture me with false hopes? 
Why do you allure me to a forgetfulness of duty ? Will you 
not let me rest in peace ? O, Violet, Violet, will your heart 
ever turn to me?’’ he faintly whispered from the anguish 
of his soul. 

The watchful listener caught the faint accents and started 
from her seat. Softly, as a silver moonbeam falling upon 
the silent earth, she glided to his side, fearful that the throb- 
bing heart would betray her presence. 

‘‘Alanl” she faintly whispered, hardly daring to trust 
her own voice. 

But he heeded neither the trembling accents, nor the 
subtile perfume of violets stealing through the room. 

‘‘Alanl” she repeated in firmer tones. ‘‘I have come to 
comfort you in your sorrow 1 To help you bear your bur- 
dens 1” 

^^Oh, my Father!” he cried in anguish. ‘^Save my 
reason! Let me not fall a victim to delusion! Violet! 
Violet! Is it really you, or an inhabitant from another 
sphere?” he exclaimed, starting to his feet in consternation. 

^^Yes, Alan, it is I! Can’t you understand it is Violet 
who stands beside you?” she asked. 

^^Not hardly,” he answered, clasping her to his heart. 
^^I have imagined you so often by my side and found it only 
a passing delusion, that I had no faith in the reality. ” 

‘‘I have come to seek forgiveness for all the wrong which 
I have wrought. To crave the old place in your heart. 
Rest assured, Alan, dear, a visitant from another world 
does not sue for pardon. ” 

‘‘Oh, my darling, you must not speak of forgiveness. 
There has never been any resentment in my heart against 
you. It has always been overflowing with the great love 
which bound you to me. I have only grown weary in 
waiting for your summons. I have grown more impatient. 


2i8 


OUT OF TUNE. 


since I learned you were ^so near and yet so far.’ O, 
Violet, had you but sent that little ‘come’ to me, I would 
have hastened to the ends of the world for you. ” 

“I know it, dear. But I could not wait for that; it was 
better for me to come to you, and erase the errors of the 
past. ” 

“Let us sit here in the moonlight, Violet, while you tell 
me how it happens that you are here. I was thinking of 
you as being in Paris or Germany with Beatrice. Tell me, 
have your friends returned to England?” 

“ No, ” she calmly answered. “When I learned that you, 
and you alone were necessary for my happiness, I could not 
rest till I had started forth upon my mission. Beatrice 
offered her company, which I gladly accepted, and here 
I am. ” 

“Blessed Cousin Bee! How hard she has labored for 
us! How much she will rejoice for this hour! But tell 
me, does this explain that unintelligible message which I 
received a few hours ago, from her ? ” he inquired. 

“Not wholly,” she answered merrily. “Bee sent it 
that way intentionally. She said, it would prepare you, 
without giving any information, and like a Chinese laundry 
bill you would know it represented something, I think 
I shall have to reveal Bee’s secret, in order to satisfy your 
inquiries. I only hesitated from fear that she would like to 
impart the astounding news. ” 

“Do proceed, darling, and relieve my suspense. Cousin 
Bee, I can assure, will graciously allow you the privilege. ” 

“When we called at the Herrs, Beatrice found that her 
son was alive and well,” said Violet. 

“What!” he exclaimed. “Alive and well!” Truly, 
the age of miracles has not passed! What a blessing! 
Praise the great Father of all! Can you give me the par- 
ticulars ? ” 

“It appears that the child was supposed to have died 
from a hemorrhage, a few days after its birth; but it had 
only fainted. Its frail life hung on a thread for weeks; 


OUT OF TUNE. 


219 


while the physician would not allow its nurse to inform the 
parents, as he feared an injury to the brain, which would 
result in imbecility. After carefully diagnosing the case 
for a year, he found his fears were groundless, and gave 
permission to send the knowledge to the mother. The 
nurse who has charge of him, has written and advertised 
ineffectually, about six months. When Bee and I arrived, 
she supposed we had come in answer to some information 
received. You cannot conceive of Bee’s surprise and de- 
light when she learned the astounding news. 

^‘She almost flew to the boy’s side, telling me to follow. 
I did so, and rejoiced with her over her new-found treasure. 
She held him some time before he awoke. She had been 
tracing the resemblance to his father, when the child opened 
his eyes and smiled upon her. She surprised me by crying 
out, ‘Vi, he looks just like Alan.’ 

“I asked if she meant ‘my Alan,’ unconsciously betraying 
the secret I had hidden so many years. 

“‘Yes,’ she calmly answered. ‘Your Alan is the only 
one I know. ’ You might have supposed she was thoroughly 
acquainted with my sad history. Yet, I ascertained that 
she only knew we were both unhappy. We sat talking 
for hours. She, with folded arms around the little one, 
told me of your noble life. I can never forget the beautiful 
picture which she made. It was like a representation of 
the Christ-Mother. It is impressed indellibly upon my 
memory. She taught me the priceless lesson of forgiveness. 
She fully illustrated its sweet simplicity. I saw, clearly, my 
imaginary unsurpassable mountains of distrust dissolve, 
forever, from existence, through her gentle influence. I 
realized that the mistake of all these long dreary years was 
wholly my own. I found that I had been needlessly strug- 
gling through the gilded pleasures of life, seeking for hap- 
piness, to lull my unsatisfied spirit, and finding none. 
I perceived the little path which I had always shunned, 
opening before me with a radiance from on high. It led 
to happiness and love. It led to you, Alan. I have asked 


220 


OUT OF TUNE. 


the Savior’s hand to keep me safe, within, and I know. 
He will not forsake my feeble footsteps. ” 

‘‘God be praised that He has led you into His blessed 
light! My poor wounded dove, you have had a rough 
passage! We will trust that our sorrows are buried in the 
gloomy past. We will hope that the brighter future will 
bring its reward for all the dreary days. ” 

“I can never thank Bee as she deserves. She does a 
kindness so unconsciously. That reminds me, she wishes 
to consult you on business, and I will leave that for her to 
arrange. I think, Alan, we are neglecting her. She left 
me some time ago, to find Mrs. Butler, and consult her about 
a cup of tea. ” 

“ Did she ?” queried Alan. “O, Violet, didn’t you under- 
stand Cousin Bee’s ruse ? She left you, that we might clear 
away the mists of the past. She has the wisdom and tact 
of both ancient and modern philosophers combined within 
that innocent little head of hers.” 

“Truly spoken,” asserted Violet. “I see my powers of 
intuition are becoming dwarfed. ” 

‘ ‘Excuse the neglect of hospitality, won’t you, Violet ? ” 
asked Alan cheerfully. “I was too busy to think of that 
cheering beverage. We will go and see if it is ready. I 
think, in view of this honorable occasion, I might be tempted 
to indulge in a second cup. ” 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

An Angel at the Fireside. 

^‘Auntie, I have brought you a friend who wishes a cup 
of your tea. Miss Morriton, let me make you acquainted 
Vv^ith Mrs. Butler, my prime supervisor,’^ exclaimed Alan 
in a merry voice, as he entered the dining-room. ^‘Let 
me thank you. Cousin Bee, for your great kindness. You 
have indeed become the peacemaker you wished.” 

‘‘Thank you. Has Violet told you of the great blessing 
which has been bestowed upon me ? ” she asked, anxiously. 
“I see she has taken my advice, though she scorned it. ” 
“Yes, she informed me of the astonishing restoration of 
your little son. I rejoice at your fortune, and trust the 
gracious Father may spare him many years, as a comforter 
and protector to his faithful little mother. But, what was 
the advice given Violet?” he asked. 

“Don’t be too inquisitive. Cousin Fan,” responded 
Beatrice, noticing the blush stealing over Violet’s face. 
Don’t try to find out things not intended for masculine 
ears, lest you might fall into a snare. ” 

All laughed at the reproof, as Mrs. Butler led the way to 
the table. Anna suddenly appeared from some invisible 
place laden with the steaming tea, and the uncertain biscuits, 
which, in spite of all apologies, turned out to be perfection. 
It mattered little to either Violet or Alan, whether they were 
leavened or unleavened. They were so filled with their own 
happiness, they failed to notice what they were eating. 

Beatrice, alone, did ample justice to the bountiful spread. 
“I am awfully hungry. Auntie B., and your tea is so nice, 
I can’t refrain from satisfying my appetite, now I have the 
chance. What fine raspberries you have! I must have 
another saucer of them, and the rich cream! They are so 
delicious!” 

Anna, who was in the act of bringing hot water to her 


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mistress, and on the alert to see and hear everything con- 
cerning the beautiful ladies, felt amply rewarded for tlie 
evening search in the garden. 

Mrs. Butler told Alan to conduct the ladies to the parlor, 
as they rose from their seats to leave the room. 

‘^Oh, no!’’ protested Beatrice. ^‘Let’s stay in the sitting 
room; it’s much nicer than a shut-up parlor. Can’t we 
have a fire in the grate? I know it is not needed, but it 
looks more cheerful and social.” 

‘^Have your own way, dearie, as you always do,” she 
answered. ‘‘It is a good way, I know, as it makes us all 
happy. ” 

“Cousin Lan, are you willing to become my little Theo’s 
guardian ? I shall require some one to advise me in regard 
to his education, and whatever may occur. Then I wish 
to set aside a portion of Mort’s wealth for his son. Mort 
left it all to me, not knowing of our little one’s existence, 
and I do not understand the technicalities of law matters.” 

“I will gladly assist you. Cousin Beatrice, in whatever 
way you desire, in regard to your son,” answered Alan. 
“I shall feel honored in becoming his guardian.” 

The trio sat by the cheerful fireside enjoying the pleasing 
recollection of the past, the happy present, and the bright, 
inviting future. Beatrice made several, ineffectual attempts 
to leave Violet and Alan, but they saw through her strategy 
and would not permit it. 

“Don’t you think Auntie B. will do, without further 
instructions from you. Bee?” humorously asked Alan. 

“Not hardly,” replied Beatrice. “On this auspicious 
occasion there is much to be considered, of which the princi- 
pal actors are not aware. I cannot remain a silent partner 
in this company, I am so greatly interested. You must 
pardon me for giving unnecessary advice. I would like 
to inquire as to your future. What arrangements have 
you made?” 

“Nothing definite, yet, has been decided upon. I have 
left everything with Violet. She will return to America in 


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223 


September, and I hope to follow shortly after. Providence 
permitting, our marriage will take place in October.’’ 

This information was unsatisfactory to Beatrice. She 
had expected something far different. She wished they 
would let her suggest a way, ‘^and why not?” she asked 
herself, ‘‘when I am acting as her chaperon. ” 

They saw that the information was far from pleasing her, 
and wondered why. “Have you any better way to suggest. 
Cousin Bee?” asked Alan quizzingly. 

“Certainly, I have!” she gravely replied. “And, as you 
have appealed to me, I can advise you, without being 
deemed intrusive. You see. Cousin Lan, I am Violet’s 
chaperon. In the absence of her parents, I stand in their 
place. I recognize the great responsibility resting upon 
me. Everything, affecting her welfare, is of vast interest 
to me. I have brought her to you, that some wrong, either 
real or imaginary, I care not which, might be remedied. 
The effort has been successful. You are both happy over 
the result, which has changed the whole current of your 
lives. Why? I should like to inquire, do you both defer 
your happiness, like long-drawn-out sweetness?” she asked 
with the mature wisdom of a matron of fifty. 

“What do you mean?” queried Violet. 

“Explain yourself, ” said Alan, “I am in the dark.” 

“I would change the customary order of things by being 
married here and taking a bridal trip home to America,” 
she calmly replied. “It would be quite unique, Violet, 
and entirely out of the ordinary.” 

“I agree with you there. Bee, though such an idea never 
entered my mind,” said Violet reflectively. 

“Thank you, for the suggestion. Cousin Beatrice, It 
lies wholly with Violet to decide the matter. I will restrain 
my own wishes, and abide by hers,” said Alan. 

“Just think, Violet,” she continued, fully entering into 
the spirit of the proposition, “think what a deal of anxiety 
and trouble would be saved by the arrangement. You 
could have just as nice a wedding here as at home. I will 


224 


OUT OF TUNE. 


promise that we can make it a grand affair. There are 
about six weeks before the first of September, which gives 
ample time to prepare an elaborate trousseau. I would 
dearly love to superintend the whole business, with Elva’s 
help, and Auntie B.^s.’’ 

^‘Oh, Beatrice, I do not aspire to a brilliant wedding,’^ 
answered Violet. ‘^Once, nothing else would have satisfied 
me. Now, I would prefer a quiet one, in some charming 
spot, away from the pomp and glare of fashion. 

“God grant that your wishes may be gratified, my dar- 
ling!’’ responded Alan, fervently. “They coincide with 
mine. My heart awaits the presence of the household 
angel, and will gladly welcome her, whenever she comes. ” 

“There is no reason why your wishes should not be 
granted,’’ said Beatrice. “I know the very place. It is 
charming Devon. Mort and I thought it a modern Utopia. 
And, I know, you both will think it a paradise. I was in- 
tending to spend my Winter somewhere in Europe, on ac- 
count of my son, and nothing could be better than to locate 
at the old place, where we were so happy. I will take a 
house for a year; ask Mrs. Herr to preside over it, and ar- 
range everything. I already feel the responsibilities of a 
household upon my shoulders. Of course, Lena will 
bring the children, and my Theo will have a home among 
his own kindred. And — ” she stopped a moment to 
breathe. 

Alan and Violet grew more and more astonished, at the 
unfolding of Beatrice’s plans. Neither were accustomed 
to the pleasing process of being provided for. It came like 
a healing balm to their receptive hearts. They were amazed 
at the vast resources of ability which qualified her for any 
emergency. It was very gratifying to receive such care 
and attention, and they fully appreciated all the busy little 
lady’s efforts. They were happy, and contented to leave 
all details in her hands, and allowed her to unfold her won- 
derful plans, which she did with great rapidity. 

“You could be married from my house. I think Fairview, 


OUT OF TUNE. 


22S 


Devon, England, would sound well. ’’ she remarked, 
straying from her subject. ^^You can be just as quiet as 
you wish. Or you can have the wedding in the church, 
and make it a grand affair. You might arrange for the 
happy event to take place in September; and celebrate 
the joyous occasion with a few days at liappy Haven.’ Then 
you could go to America, and gladden the hearts of the 
Morritons , and Stuarts, and receive congratulations. Why, 
Violet, I know it would be the event of the whole season. 
It would be so unique. Does the proposition meet your 
approval ? ” 

Alan waited anxiously for Violet to decide. His mind 
was already settled. He thought it an admirable adjust- 
ment, not wholly on account of being a more speedy realiza- 
tion of his hopes but as a safer way out of all worry and 
perplexity. Yet he waived his opinion till Violet had 
expressed hers. 

“I think your arrangement a most wonderful one. Bee. 
If it meets Alan’s approval, and I see from his assent, that 
it does, we will leave the matter in your hands, and accept 
your sweet kindness. I would prefer. Bee, to be married 
in your house, it would seem more like home. I could not 
have selected a more enticing place to begin my new life, 
than at ^Happy Haven.’ I want to visit the scene of Alan’s 
labors. Where he has done so much for the boys. I wish 
Alan, you would invite all your flock down; I should like 
to witness their pleasure. I shall never interfere with your 
noble work, but try to assist, by sharing your burdens.” 

^‘Amen,” said Alan. ‘‘The Father has left the poor of 
this world to our care, and those are the happiest who 
heed His charge. There are fields awaiting His children. ” 

“I think you may allow me to depart a little while, now, 
I have shown you the way out of your difiiculty,” said 
Beatrice with an amusing laugh. “I will tell Auntie B. 
the wonderful news, and ask her advice about many im- 
portant things. I don’t suppose there is any use to ask 
you. Cousin Lan, to run down to Devon for a few days. 


226 


OUT OF TUNE. 


is there ? I would like you to assist me in finding a suitable 
house.’’ 

‘‘I can accommodate you, I am happy to say. A young 
man by the name of Bradford is spending his vacation 
among friends in my parish, and I know he would accept 
the place for a short time, as he has already offered his 
services. I should be pleased to be of any assistance. 
Cousin Bee. Never hesitate to enlist my aid in any under- 
taking.” 

‘‘Never fear,” answered Beatrice. “I may require it, 
in a way you little dream of.” She flitted away leaving 
Violet and Alan to the enjoyment of their new-found happi- 
ness. They sat in silence some time, content to let the 
blissful prospects of the future range uninterrupted through 
their hearts. 

“Alan,” said Violet, “you must continue your mission 
here. I have told you that I would be your helper, and I 
pray you to look upon me in that light. ‘Whither thou 
goest, I will go.’ Whether you labor here, or in your 
native land, I will remain by your side. Perhaps, in time, 
the memory of the dark days will fade away. What bless- 
ings I have refused! ” 

“Nay, Nay, my darling. Do not repine. Do not 
mar the peace of this heavenly hour, by harrowing in the 
seeds of regret. It has only been a passing cloud that has 
obscured your vision awhile. I know that in time, the 
cloud will dissolve, and you will step forth into the mar- 
vellous light of a blessed reality. ” 

“I think, after all, Alan, you knew my heart better than 
I did. I must write to Unie and mamma and tell them 
of our engagement and future plans.” 

“And, I must make them known to my mother and 
Evie. How pleased they will be to welcome us back again. 
I will write to your father and give a satisfactory explana- 
tion of the situation. Perhaps your brothers might arrange 
to be present at our wedding.” 

“Dr. Herbert might I think,” said Violet. “But I am 


OUT OF TUNE. 


227 


certain Harry cannot, as he must return to college, some- 
time during the month.’’ 

“We must draw our happy evening to a close, Violet 
dear, ” said Alan. “We have a large correspondence to get 
through for the morning’s mail. We will call Cousin 
Bee and Mrs. Butler, and return thanks to our heavenly 
Father for His great mercies. How much better He can 
provide for our wants than we can ask! Truly, ^ It is always 
darkest before the dawn.’ I entered my home amid the 
gloom and found an angel of light waiting at the fireside. ” 

Mrs. Butler and Beatrice obeyed the summons. A 
fervent prayer of praise and thanksgiving came from the 
lips of Alan Stuart, which touched a responsive chord 
in the heart of each one. At its close, Violet went to the 
piano and sang that beautiful hymn, “Jesus, Saviour, 
Pilot Me.” 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

The Announcement of the Marriage. 

Mrs. Moreland fully realized the responsibilities resting 
upon her. It was amusing, at times, to see the grave dignity 
overshadowing the features. A suitable house was placed 
at her disposal, which proved to be adapted to every want. 
The family, consisting of the father, mother and daughter, 
wished to travel a year. Beatrice engaged it at once, and 
left it in charge of the same housekeeper. She gave infor- 
mation concerning her boy, and requested that the old 
nursery be refurnished. will leave everything in your 
hands for the present, as I shall be busy elsewhere; I am 
liable to come any time; I can’t say just when, but soon,” 
she said in leaving her. 

Alan and Violet were delighted with the place which 
Beatrice had chosen. They returned to the parsonage, 
and met Mrs. Butler’s anxious fears with the cheering news. 
She was fearful that her mistress’s son would not have that 
attention shown which his position merited. Her appre- 
hensions were wholly banished, when Alan informed her 
that the entire bridal party would spend a day at the parson- 
age before proceeding to ‘Happy Haven.’ She thought, 
with Mrs. Moreland’s aid, she would give them a surprising 
reception. 

The eighth of September was selected for the wedding 
day. The preparations progressed with great rapidity 
under Beatrice’s supervision. Her ability lay in the art 
of keeping others constantly employed. The trousseau 
was selected in Paris. 

Mr. and Mrs. Hervey regarded Beatrice as a most im- 
portant personage. Every time she met them, she had 
some remarkable revelation to disclose. “First she tells 
of the restored child. Then, she gives the news of Violet’s 
engagement, and approaching marriage. And, finally, 


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229 


I should not be surprised if she married a prince, ” remarked 
Elva to her husband. ‘‘She is one of those of whom it 
might be said, ‘She is a host within herself,’’’ he added. 

Everything being fairly started, Violet and Beatrice 
spent a few weeks with Mr. and Mrs. Hervey in visiting 
Florence, Venice and Switzerland. They reached Vienna 
in August, charmed with all the wonders of nature and art. 
There the party was broken again. It was necessary for the 
matron to be present at Fairview, that all might be in readi- 
ness for the approaching event. 

Beatrice and Violet left for Germany and spent a day 
with the Herrs. The mother’s heart was gladdened by 
a cry of welcome from her little son. The announcement 
of the Morriton and Stuart marriage was not to be com- 
pared with the invitation to preside over the home of Mrs. 
Moreland, to the minds of the Flerrs. It occupied only a 
secondary place in their estimation. And, if they could 
serve their benefactress, by granting anything within their 
power they would most cheerfully. Accordingly, the 
proposition to leave their home, for a time, was favorably 
received. Everything was put in readiness, awaiting the 
summons. 

Mrs. Moreland and Violet left the next morning, promis- 
ing to meet the Herrs in Paris on the following day. Their 
short stay in the city was nearly all occupied with the last 
additions to the wedding outfit. 

Alan met the party at Dover and saw them safely started 
upon their journey to Fairview before returning to the 
parsonage. Baby Theo was a source of amusement through- 
out the long ride, and proved a blessing by his considerate 
good behavior. 

The unexpected news was received with great rejoicing 
across the water. It came to the sorrowing mother as a 
new star of hope, suddenly bursting forth upon the western 
horizon. She felt its glorious light would guide her through 
the vale of life. Like the old housekeeper, she saw the 
resentment which she had diligently cherished so many 


230 


OUT OF TUNE. 


years, fade quickly away. She was beginning to count the 
days that must intervene before she could welcome Alan 
and Violet. ^‘We must have new gowns, Evie dear,’’ 
she said, awaking with a new zeal to the interests of life. 

^Alan would like us to be present at the reception which 
the Morritons will give, and I will make the effort and 
go.” 

‘‘Certainly, you can try, mamma,” said Evie. “If you 
are careful I do not think it can injure you.” 

The news reached Roselands by the means of three 
letters arriving simultaneously. Mr. Stuart had written 
Mr. Morriton, and Dr. Herbert; while Violet had sent a 
long communication to Unie. The father opened his letter 
first, and read the amazing contents to the mother and 
daughter, kle could hardly credit the words. “We are 
to be united in the holy bond of matrimony on September 
eighth, the Lord willing.” “Willing!” he repeated; “of 
course He is willing. I notice He always helps those who 
help themselves! What does Violet say to you, Unie?” 
he inquired. 

Unie glanced over the contents a few moments before 
answering, then read as follows: “Tell mamma I am 
very happy; happier than I ever dreamed of being on this 
changing earth. I have learned the cause of my unhappi- 
ness. I have found the source of true happiness. I have 
discovered that vast treasury of the Savior’s mercies. I 
have drawn from its mighty depths that missing note 
which you told me was necessary to complete the harmony 
of life. My heart is thrilled with rapture when I view 
the wonderful provision of Our Heavenly Father. 

“Through the kindness of Beatrice, the mistake existing 
between Alan and me has been rectified; and, we are to be 
married on the eighth of September. Though it may come 
as startling news to you, it is only a speedy termination of 
a very long engagement. I know you all will rejoice with 
me in my exceedingly great happiness. 

“We are to be wedded at Fairview, a beautiful country 


OUT OF TUNE. 


231 


house which Beatrice has rented. It is situated in a small 
seaside town, in the delightful country of Devon. After- 
wards we will go to the parsonage, and spend a day that 
Alan’s people may participate in the joyous occasion. 
From there we go direct to ‘Happy Haven,’ the place where 
Alan gives the poor boys of the great city a summer outing. 
We remain a few days and I suppose the boys will have a 
jubilee. We have not yet decided what form it shall take. 
We expect to sail from Liverpool on the fifteenth for home.” 

Dr. Herbert and Harry had been sailing up the river 
and did not return until the family had retired. In pre- 
paring for rest the Doctor saw his letter upon a table; he 
took it and carefully scanned its contents, giving only an 
expressive whistle to convey his astonishment. He called 
Harry, and gave it to him to read. 

Harry received the letter, glanced at the writing and then 
at the signature, without being any the wiser. “Why, 
Doc., what’s so important about this, that you couldn’t 
let a fellow rest till morning?” Receiving no reply, he 
eagerly devoured the startling information regarding Violet. 

“Great Scott 1” he exclaimed. “I am actually startled 
out of my witsl I really think it has frightened me out of 
a year’s growth! Nature will never add another cubit to 
my stature! But, Doc., who is this Alan Stuart? Did I 
ever hear of him before?” 

Doctor Herbert answered the query by relating what he 
knew of the episode of the past. It was very brief, only 
containing the statement that Violet had once been engaged 
to the same gentleman, but from some unknown reason 
the engagement had never been consummated. 

“I see,” remarked Harry. “A case of ‘Auld Lang 
Syne.’ It is quite a romance. Violet could not have selected 
a more sensational method, if she had tried for years. 
But, I am suspicious of that widow. I fear she has been 
the prime minister in the whole affair, and arranged matters 
to her own satisfaction. Of course, you will accept the 
invitation, and have the honor of being best man on the 


232 


OUT OF TUNE. 


momentous occasion. I don’t know why I cannot go with 
you. I have ample time to witness the marriage, take in all 
the celebrations, and return in time for the opening of 
college. O, Doc., let’s take the first steamer, and surprise 
Violet and Mrs. Moreland! In fact, I had better protect 
you against any designs, as weddings are prevalent, this 
season, among Jhe Morritons.” 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

The Celebration at ‘Happy Haven.’ 

Dr. Herbert and Harry arrived quite unexpectedly 
a week before the wedding. It afforded Violet great pleas- 
ure that the family was represented by her three brothers. 
Harry’s presence made a slight change in the programme. 
Doctor Herbert was to serve as best man; Elva as maid of 
honor, Miss Ethel Porter, and her friend. Miss Bessie 
Lowery, had been selected as bridesmaids. 

Harry persuaded his sister to allow him to take the 
Doctor’s place. “Why, don’t you solicit the Widow Bee 
to take Elva’s?” he asked, quizzingly. “I should not 
think you could dispense with her valuable services on this 
great event of life. ” 

“Thank you, ever so much, Harry for suggesting it. I 
will see Bee, and get her consent. The change is an im- 
provement.” 

Beatrice’s consent, however, was very hard to gain. 
“O, Vil” she exclaimed, “who ever heard of a widow being 
a maid of honor!” 

“It is all the nicer from its being out of the ordinary 
method. You are laying aside your mourning, so you can- 
not hesitate for want of a suitable robe. I wish you would 
consent. Bee; I want you so much. I had thought of 
Unie occupying this position, if I ever married. And, as 1 
cannot have her, I must entreat you to fill her place.” 

Beatrice granted the request without consulting her v>wn 
feelings. She was gratified at this expression of esteem 
which Violet held for her. It exceeded her hopes, and 
raised the buoyancy of her spirits. 

The wedding-day dawned bright and clear, banisning 
every apprehensive fear. The beautiful sunshine flooding 
the earth, with its genial rays, and scattering its blessings 
of joy and light, seemed a fitting type of the great love that 
had risen in their trusting hearts to illumine all their lives, 


234 


OUT OF TUNE. 


The spacious rooms at Fairview were tastefully decorated 
with wild flowers, palms, and rare exotics. Beatrice, 
with Flarry’s assistance had designed a small boat, covered, 
and laden with flowers. This occupied one side of the 
drawing room. The entrance was through portieres of 
trailing vines interwoven with fragrant flowers. 

Violet and Alan stood within the floral boat amid the 
gorgeous wealth of odoriferous blooms, and pledged their 
vows of love. Hand in hand, they stepped forth into the 
new path of life opening before them. 

The ceremony was performed by the Rev. Mr. Potter, 
assisted by the Rev. Mr. Bradford, the assistant of Mr. 
Stuart. 

The bride was charming in a gown of white satin, orna- 
mented richly with duchesse lace. She wore a beautiful 
necklace of diamonds, a gift from the father; and carried 
a bouquet of bride’s roses. 

The bridemaids were dressed in pink, carrying bouquets 
of the famous Lawson Pink. Mrs. Beatrice Moreland 
assisted as maid of honor, and even Harry acknowledged 
that she was as fair as any of the others. 

The bride’s brothers. Dr. Herbert Morriton, Professor 
Hervey Morriton, and Mr. Harry Morriton served as ushers. 

Mr. and Mrs. Alan Stuart passed their first day of wedded 
life with the charming hostess. On the following morning 
they took the train for London, and proceeded, without 
delay to the parsonage. They were accompanied by 
Professor Morriton and wife. Doctor Herbert, Harry and 
Mrs. Moreland. Mr. Porter, and his daughter Ethel joined 
the party from urgent invitation. 

This last accession was very pleasing to Harry Morriton, 
who considered Miss Ethel Porter, the most sensible young 
lady he had ever met. 

Mrs. Butler had made provisions for a reception to be 
held at the church, that the whole parish might attend. 
Mr. and Mrs. Stuart received the congratulations and 
best wishes, not only of the parish, but from the whole 


OUT OF TUNE. 


23s 


community. The poor and rich mingled their blessings 
together. A bountiful collation was spread in the vestry, and 
each was remembered with a box of ca^ke, in parting. 

The members of the church and congregation presented 
their beloved pastor and his bride, with a large Bible 
bound in morocco and gilt, as a token of their great esteem. 
Mr. Stuart received the gift with appropriate remarks, 
and gladdened their hearts by saying, ‘‘Mrs. Stuart wishes 
to present the church with the sum of One Thousand Dol- 
lars, for its own use; also, a similar amount to be distributed 
among the poor of this parish.’’ 

A burst of thanks surged forth from their grateful hearts 
in murmured praise. But the boys of the Sunday School 
were more expressive. One little fellow, braver than the 
others shouted out, “Three cheers for the beautiful lady I” 
They were lustily given by the boys, and many of the older 
ones, and were appreciated from their sincerity. 

It was Violet’s first meeting with the poor and needy. 
Hitherto, she had avoided their presence, for fear of con- 
tamination, or contagion of infectious diseases which she 
always associated with poverty. Now, she was learning 
that wholesome truth, “It is more blessed to give than to 
receive.” The spontaneous outburst was a new mark of 
approbation. 

Great preparations had been made for the wedding 
festivities at ‘Happy Haven. ’ Even Auntie B. was persuaded 
to join the party when they left the parsonage. Mr. Brad- 
ford, assisted by Mr. Frost, had carried out the proposed 
plans of all the interested ones, and introduced a few novel 
ones of his own. Fifty of the poor boys from London 
were invited for the two-days’ celebration. Mr. Bradford 
escorted them to their destination the day previous to the 
arrival of the party, and presented each boy with a suit 
of new clothes, in the name of Mrs. Alan Stuart. Vocifer- 
ous cheers and hurrahs filled the air from the expanding 
lungs of the astonished boys. They entered fully into the 
spirit of the occasion, and went so far as to propose some 


236 


OUT OF TUNE. 


startling novelties, as an expression of their good will. 
One of their plans was to escort the bridal party to the 
house, with music; another, to have a grand display of 
fireworks. To their unbounded delight, Mr. Bradford 
sent a large order to a city manufacturer. Several designs 
were original. One proposed a true lover’s knot, with the 
names of Mr. and Mrs. Alan Stuart interwoven. Another 
patriotic little fellow wanted the Stars and Stripes” of 
America, and the Union Jack” of England, with clasped 
hands between. Mr. Bradford considered it a valuable 
suggestion, and told them they should have it for a closing 
piece. 

Mr. and Mrs. Stuart were wholly unprepared for the great 
demonstration which greeted their arrival. The boys had 
spread the news throughout the vicinity, and it had reached 
the surrounding country. If all the reports were reliable, 
then it was certainly an occasion worthy of royalty. The 
marriage^of the rich American lady to a comparatively 
unknown preacher among the poor, formed the topic of 
news and conversation in the summer hotels. The bands 
from several of the houses offered their services. 

As the bridal party left the railway coaches, three bands 
struck up Lohengrin’s Wedding March, and fell into line. 
The musicians were closely followed by the boys, marching 
in twos, and keeping step to the music. These preceded 
the wedding coaches, and led through leafy arches which 
had been erected by the interested public. 

Mr. and Mrs. Stuart entered ‘Happy Haven’ amid the 
ringing of bells, and the glorious outburst of music. They 
received the congratulations of the multitude with cordiality, 
and expressed their thanks to the bands for their soul- 
stirring strains. Violet silently consecrated herself, anew, 
to the Master’s service. 

“Mrs. Stuart has a little matter arranged for the benefit 
of the boys, this evening, and I think we may require your 
aid in helping them exhibit their joy, ” said the pastor invit- 
ing the bands to participate in the coming entertainment. 


OUT OF TUNE. 


237 


It was the boys’ turn to be surprised, and many were the 
conjectures entertained in regard to the subject. Almost 
everything that one could think of, except the right one, 
was proposed, in the short time which remained. 

Their wonderment was not lessened any when they 
were invited to enter the large tent. They saw Mr. and 
Mrs. Stuart seated before a small table holding a pile of 
blank books. Mr. Stuart still further puzzled them, by 
calling the name of each in alphabetical order. Mrs. 
Stuart gave one of these books to each boy, as he responded 
to his name. They stood waiting for an explanation, not 
realizing their new possession. 

‘‘Boys!” said Mr. Stuart, enjoying their bewildered looks, 
“these little books tell you, that the sum of Fifty Dollars 
has been placed to your credit in the bank. Mrs. Stuart has 
kindly given you this sum, that you may be enabled to take 
better care of yourselves. She only placed a few restric- 
tions upon you, in regard to its use. If you will open your 
books, you will find a little note from her, and the sum of 
Five Dollars, to spend, as you may think best.” 

Further remarks were lost in the deafening volley of 
thanks which poured from their throats, like a cannonade. 
They jumped and shouted, and cheered to their hearts’ 
content, till their din was lost finally amid the patriotic 
airs of the bands. 

Each little recipient’s heart overflowed with love to the 
bountiful lady. He read the note from her hand, asking 
him never to use tobacco, or intoxicating liquors, and 
vowed in his heart, he would please her. Already, he had 
assumed a new dignity to himself; he felt as though he had 
increased in stature since the preceding day. Visions of 
prosperity floated before every happy lad. He could go 
into business, when he was a little older; he could have a 
store, or a house, or a ship to send all over the world. In 
short, the small sum assumed the magnitude of millions. 

The second day was passed in a similar round of enjoy- 
ment, by the boys. They had all the fun they wished, with 


23S 


OUT OF TUNE. 


plenty of fruit and ice cream to regale themselves. Harry 
joined them in all their sports, and won their praise by 
proposing several new games. The greatest feature of 
the whole celebration, in their estimation, was reserved 
for the evening. They told the plan to Harry under the 
most solemn vows of secrecy. 

Mr. and Mrs. Stuart entered fully into all the enjoyment 
of their many guests. They noticed the extensive prepara- 
tions for the great display of fireworks with evident satis- 
faction, thinking it another method of entertainment for 
the gratification of the little ones. 

The boys were quite impatient for the darkness. They 
besieged Harry with questions, shortly after sunset, asking 
if he did not think it time for the band to begin, and so 
forth. 

“Don’t you know, boys,” he said decisively, “that fire- 
works are no good until it is fully dark?” 

“Of course, we dol” they all agreed, delighted at the 
appeal to their judgment. “We’ll wait till the right time.” 

Their patience was amply rewarded when the orchestra 
sent forth the beautiful strains of Schubert’s serenade. 
This was followed by the Peasant’s Wedding March, and 
other brilliant selections. The programme was finely 
rendered, and gave “Sousa’s Hands Across the Sea,” as 
a finale. 

The boys, to their great delight, were allowed to touch 
off the pinwheels, and send up the rockets. These came 
alternately, making the sky radiant with countless shooting 
stars of irredescent hues. The greatest feature of the ex- 
hibition were the set pieces which were reserved for the 
last. Noted men, of different nations, were first presented; 
these were quickly replaced by floral designs, perfect in 
their colorings. A few moments of silent expectation 
passed over the vast assembly, as the pieces designed by 
the boys, were ignited. Both burned at the same time. 
As the glowing fires revealed the names of Mr. and Mrs. 
Alan Stuart with the knot of love between, the pent-up 


OUT OF TUNE. 


239 


enthusiasm of the boys burst its bonds, and swept like a 
deluge from their throats. The Stars and Stripes, and the 
Union Jack with clasped hands extending from each 
national flag stirred the loyal hearts of the whole multitude 
into cheer after cheer, till the very air seemed rent with 
applause. In the midst of this great demonstration the 
band struck up the music, ^‘God Save the King.’’ 

It is a typical national hymn. Dear alike to both Amer- 
icans and English. Each calls it his own, whenever he 
hears the thrilling strains. So closely are they interwoven, 
that one may sing his country’s ode, while another chants 
his praises to his King, in perfect harmony. It was a 
most appropriate ending of the wedding festivities, showing 
the friendliness existing between the mother country, and 
her independent offspring. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Retrospection. 

Violet’s thoughts reverted to the past. She contrasted 
its ideal visions with the blessed realities of the present 
The difference was so great, as to be scarcely creditable. 
In the by-gone days, she had planned for an elaborate, 
affair. She would select only the richest and costliest of 
robes; precious stones, and rare gems should contribute 
their scintillating charms to her bridal attire. All that 
wealth could bestow was freely lavished at her feet. Even, 
the treasures of the earth were to be sought, that her de- 
mands might be satisfied. She would have her nuptial day, 
one that should never be forgotten. It should surpass all 
others, by its beauty, elegance, and richness. It should be 
the crowning event of her life. ^‘And why,” she asked 
herself, ^‘should it not mark an epoch in the history of the 
age in which I live?” She never dreamed, but what such 
a prestige would insure the brighest attainable happiness. 

How differently had the hopes of youth been consum- 
mated! How vain and frivolous they seemed to her now, 
as memory opened the closed pages to the clear light of 
truth! “Are these self-accusing deeds, all my own?” she 
murmured. “Alas! it is only too true! The recording 
angel makes no errors in our histories. They are indelli- 
ble, and can only be effaced by a divine Hand. ” 

Comforted by the assuring knowledge, that the Master’s 
Hand was guiding her footsteps, she saw she was better 
prepared to enjoy the great happiness with which she had 
been blessed. The dark, dreary days of the past, so full 
of sorrow, were necessary for the present joy. They had 
silently and stealthily carried away the bitter resentment of 
pride, till the mind had been relieved of its overwhelming 
burden. The ceaseless process had gradually turned the 
stony barrenness of the heart into rich, mellow soil, wherein 


OUT OF TUNE. 


241 


the seeds of “faith, hope, and charity’’ had found an abid- 
ing place, and brought forth fruit, “an hundred fold!” 
The wolf of despair, which she had clasped with Spartan 
fortitude so closely to her bosom, that it had lacerated 
her very vitals through all the long, weary years, was buried 
in oblivion, never to be raised again. The wounds were 
safely healed though the scars were still sensitive to the 
touch. 

From these retrospective glimpses came the knowledge 
of many valuable truths. The intricate wanderings over 
burning deserts and boundless plains were but the diverg- 
ing ways of self-will, ever leading its followers astray. Its 
deluded victims struggle on unconscious of the land near 
by, till they sink exhausted with fatigue, and catch the 
fragrance. Then, they retrace the steps of the long toil- 
some journey, instead of stepping across the way, into light, 
joy and peace, and rest. 

How simple and easy it seems, as we look back upon the 
past! We can wander for years, through the wilderness 
of darkness, and despair, or enter at once into the land 
abounding in everything good. Strange perversity of 
human nature to choose the hardest way! 

Violet saw that the great aim of creation was to bring 
man into harmony with his Maker. To accomplish this 
he must employ the time in taking charge of those things 
committed to his trust. There can be no shirking from 
responsibilities. Every one must take his share. It is 
only of those to whom much is given that much will be 
required. The one, little hour’s labor is just as acceptable 
to the Master of the vineyard, as the long, weary toil of the 
day. The quality of the work is tested by the willingness 
of the heart, rather than by quantity from a superior hand. 
Labor invites and awaits every one. Each has, as it were, 
his own little garden to dress and keep. Even though he 
reaches out for greater responsibilities, it is the little in- 
ferior task that lies before him which must not be over- 
looked. He must watch, and slay the “little foxes that 
spoil the vines,” if he would gather the lucious grapes. , 


242 


OUT OF TUNE. 


For the first time there dawned upon Violet’s vision a 
panoramic view of the manifold opportunities awaiting 
her. She had already learned the antidote for sorrow, 
when she gave her sympathy to Lucy Bradley. She had 
forgotten the little act of kindness, till she beheld the assur- 
ing words, ‘^Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the 
least of these, ye have done it unto me.” The golden words 
shone with a radiance from heaven, illumining all the un- 
known way. She realized that the great wealth over which 
she was mistress, was only hers, for a little while. She 
must resign it all at the close of life’s busy day. She had 
never supposed the suffering ones were appealing to her. 
True, she knew that her mother and sister Unie, had many 
charitable schemes on their hands, but argued that as they 
had nothing of more importance, it was a necessary factor 
in the passing away of time. Any interesting cases which 
had been presented, she had recompensed with a check, 
thereby saving herself the “dreadful” sight of the miseries 
of the poor. 

The unbounded delight, and great appreciation of the 
poor waifs from the great city had shown their conditions 
under the most favorable circumstances. “If such a little 
gift as a few dollars can yield them so much enjoyment, it 
is certainly the best investment which one can make. The 
opportunities are limitless, and the returns sure,” said Violet 
to herself. “I have speculated many years, for happiness 
and have failed. When I thought I had it safely secured, 
it slipped away with tantalizing mockery amid the echoes 
of the last sweet pleasure.” 

“Alan,” said Violet, “I have been thinking that I can 
assist you in carrying on your noble work among the poor. 
The Master has intrusted me with ample means which I 
willingly devote to His service. You must not give up 
your mission here, on my account ; let me help you in carry- 
ng it forward. I remember, in the former days, you wished 
to attempt something of this kind, in your native city. We 
can do that now. I think we could spend part of our time 
with each. Don’t you think it could be done ? ” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


243 


^^Yes, my darling,’’ acquiesced Alan. might though 
I had never thought of it. The way before me was rather 
obscure. I felt I could never give up my labors here, while 
duty called me back to the old home again. Your proposi- 
tion comes like a beacon light to a struggling sailor. I can 
leave the chapel and parish in Mr. Bradford’s competent 
hands. He can ably meet all the requirements. I will 
ask him to employ Mr. Frost in whatever manner he can. 

I trust, in time, the worthy man may be led into the light. ” 
Why not leave ‘Happy Haven’ in his charge ? ” she asked. 
“There are so many needed improvements, which I should 
dearly love to see here. He might be a general overseer 
of the whole. I will give whatever amount you think 
necessary to meet all expenses. Allow me to do this, 
Alan. You have done so much, all alone, I would like to 
add my mite. ” 

“You shall do whatever you wish. I leave it wholly to 
you. I can hardly realize that I am favored with such a 
helpmeet. Tell me your plans, my dear.” 

“First, of all, I would build a large pavilion-like house 
for the boys,” responded Violet. “I would have it large 
enough to accommodate, not only fifty, but two or three 
hundred. It should be a substantial summer-house, pro- 
vided with all necessary requirements. The basement 
would serve for cooking and the keeping of supplies; the 
first story, for dining-rooms, parlor, and reading-room; 
the second, for sleeping apartments; while the attic could 
be left in one large hall, suitable for a gymnasium, music- 
room, or general play-room, in case of stormy weather. 
What do you think of the plan ? ” 

“I think it a most worthy object, most admirably planned,” 
answered the appreciative husband. “I see you have- 
furnished Mr. Frost with employment for some time. We 
must acquaint him with the plans in the early morning, 
before we start upon our way.” 

“Yes,” resumed Violet, “I feel more than a passing 
interest in ‘Happy Haven.’ It has shown me the true way 


244 


OUT OF TUNE. 


of happiness. Every one of those fifty little boys, was a 
messenger of peace to my soul. As the dove bearing the 
olive branch showing the subsiding of the waters, returned 
to the Ark for safety, so their tiny hands stretched out to 
me with piteous appeals to save them from the engulfing 
waters of poverty, neglect and sin. And with God’s help, 
and yours, my kind husband, I will heed their cry of distress, 
and bring gladness to their sorrowing hearts. ” 

^^Amen! The Father will grant your prayer,” responded 
Alan. ‘‘Violet, dear, the hope that you would sometime 
see this day, has buoyed me up through all my work. I 
recognized the great resources of your noble heart. The 
dream of youth has been more than fulfilled. You surprise 
me with your total abnegation of self. I feel a greater 
incentive to labor among our fellow-creatures. You have 
brought me not only the greatest of all earthly joys, but a 
deeper trust in my Savior. Let us consecrate ourselves, 
anew, to His blessed work, and meet, hand in hand, all 
the vicissitudes of life. ” 

On submitting the proposition to Mr. Frost, it was found 
that there was no hinderance. He had gained his livlihood 
as a draughtsman before the more enticing profession of 
journalism caused him to abandon it. He listened intently 
to Mrs. Stuart’s plans, and informed her that he would sub- 
mit drawings for inspection, in a few days. 

Mr. Stuart asked him to become the steward and guard 
the interests of the estate till his return. The unexpected 
request was immediately granted. “I consider it a great 
honor, Mr. Stuart, I can assure you. I will do my best 
for you and yours,” replied the delighted man. 

Satisfactory terms were arranged, and everything per- 
taining to the new house was to be under his supervision, 
after an approval of the selected designs. 

“I shall depend on you to have everything in readiness, 
when I return next year, Mr. Frost,” said Violet, as she bade 
him good-bye. The boys certainly deserve better quar- 
ters, and it rests upon you, whether they have them or not. ” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


245 


The bridal party left “Happy Haven,” amid a shower of 
rice and old shoes, accompanied with the din of drums, 
horns, and whistles from the juvenile admirers. For the 
good of the general public, it was deemed wise for Mr. 
Bradford to escort them home by a later train. 

On reaching London, the pleasant company was broken. 
Mrs. Moreland found it necessary to return to her son, at 
Fairview. She was accompanied by Mr. Porter, Ethel, 
and her friend. Miss Lowery. 

“We will be ready to welcome you on your return, next 
year,” said Beatrice, as she bade adieu to the Morritons 
and Stuarts. 

“I wish we were coming, too, don’t you. Doc?” said 
Harry, speaking from the abundance of his heart. 

Doctor Herbert’s answer was not expressed orally. If 
it had been, it would have coincided with his brother’s 
wish. 

The remaining party consisting of the Rev. Alan Stuart, 
and wife. Prof. Hervey Morriton, and wife, Dr. Herbert 
Morriton, and Harry Morriton sailed from Liverpool on 
the fifteenth of the month for home. They were much 
pleased to find that Captain Gray was in command of the 
steamer bearing them to the American port. 


CHAPTER XL. 

Unison. 

Had Violet planned to make her marriage the most 
sensational event of the season, she could not have succeeded 
better. A romance rested over the whole affair making 
it specially interesting. Papers containing a full account of 
the wedding ceremony, and the receptions had been for- 
warded by the irrepressible brother Harry. He had dabbled 
in journalism during the past year, and his pleasing epigra- 
matic sketches had been well received, and solicited. The 
articles of information from his fluent pen and ready im- 
agination created just the effect which he desired. He 
said just enough to allow dame rumor full scope for her 
prolific powers of circulation. She left a trail of mystery 
in her untiring flights, which her followers solved with their 
own interpretations. 

The power of dissemination with discrimination is most 
valuable; used without the latter restriction, it becomes 
simply a source of annoyance. The circulated reports 
concerning Alan Stuart’s prestige had reached a great 
magnitude throughout the Morriton Society. He was 
supposed to be a multi-millionaire from the munificence of 
the wedding gifts. Some said, he must be a younger son 
of a duke, and had been set apart for the ministry. Others 
thought he must have been descended from the royalty, 
as his name clearly proved the relationship to the unfor- 
tunate Stuarts. 

All conjectures were laid aside, on the arrival of Mr. 
and Mrs. Stuart. Morriton House was thrown open for 
a grand reception, and the dear ^Tour hundred” presented 
their congratulations. The bride’s brothers assisted as 
ushers and astonished the expectant guests when they 
presented them to plain Mr. and Mrs. Alan Stuart, instead 
erf Lord and Lady. Their astonishment was still further 


OUT OF TUNE. 


247 


increased when it leaked out in some unknown way, that 
Violet Morriton had been previously engaged to this very 
man. In fact, they had been engaged ten long years. 
They concealed their pique and vied with each other, in the 
warmth of extended congratulations. 

^‘How awfully nice of you, Vi, to be married in such a 
unique way!’^ exclaimed I.ouise Barker, near the close 
of the evening’s festivities. ‘‘How awfully sweet, to get 
out of the old stereotyped way! I think I should like to 
imitate your way, it is so awfully novel!” 

The meeting between Mother Stuart, and her son Alan, 
a few hours previous, was very affecting. The mother 
and sister received Violet with open arms. Violet proposed 
that they should take her boudoir to talk over the past. 
“You see, I have so much to communicate to mamma and 
Unie, that I am judging Alan by myself. So you will 
excuse me, I trust, if I leave you three to enjoy yourselves 
without interruption. Unie is waiting for me, and I will 
stop only a short time.” 

All the old lingering regrets were banished by Violet’s 
careful forethought. The mother’s heart appreciated the 
protecting care, and she saw through this act, that she had 
gained instead of losing, by the marriage of her boy. 

“I cannot tell you, mother, how pleased I am to see you 
here! It was a great surprise to find you waiting; I would 
have proposed it, but thought you unequal for the journey. 
How well you are looking!” he said imprinting a kiss upon 
her cheek. 

“Yes,” replied the gratified mother. “I know I am 
much improved. Your good news acted like a tonic upon 
my shattered nerves, giving new life and energy. Oh, my 
boy, it is so good to see you, once more, after all the long, 
weary years of w^aiting! Shall you leave us again?” she 
asked with trembling accents. 

“ Oh, mother, do not let your anxiety shadow our reunion! 
We will let the future rest with the present and enjoy the 
blessings of this day. The work which invited me in the 


OUT OF TUNE. 


548 

past, calls to-day, with a more urgent summons. Though 
I have found the waiting hard, I knew that God, in His 
good time, would open the way. Blessed be His holy 
name!’’ 

The work among the poor and neglected of their own 
city was discussed, and arrangements made for its prosecu- 
tion. Mother and daughter were gratified when Alan 
informed them that he and Violet would spend a portion 
of their time with each interest. 

‘‘How was all this wonderful change brought about?” 
inquired Evie. “Your letter before the one announcing 
the marriage betrayed no hint of the good news. ” 

“I can only say, through Cousin Beatrice. I scarcely 
know myself. ” he answered meditatively. 

“What a change has taken place, Unie, dear, since I 
left you here, a few short weeks ago!” exclaimed Violet, 
as she seated herself beside the sister’s couch. Perhaps, 
mamma, you and Aunt Lida are unaware of the little 
prophetess in your midst. She has been as a guiding star 
to my weary feet struggling forth to the path of duty. She 
patiently listened to all my awful tales of woe; and philo- 
sophical doubts that had become deep-rooted with the scien- 
tific research of years. Out of all the chaos of unbelief 
came the comforting assurance of a Wisdom greater than 
my own. Science has clearly shown that a part cannot 
be greater than the whole, to which it belongs. Reason, 
at once, convinced me of my error. Man cannot be higher 
than his Creator! But, for Unie’s gentle ministrations, 
and sweet counsel, I should still be struggling amid the deep 
waters of doubt and despair. 

“Poor little suffering one, you have unconsciously taught 
me the lesson of patience. I have learned that we can 
labor for the good of others in whatever station we may be 
placed. Think of the vast amount of joy the ‘ Lotus Leaves ’ 
have given. I shall take several copies to ‘Happy Haven,’ 
when I return, for the boys and tell them about the little 
authoress.” 


OUT OF TUNE. 


249 


After a bridal tour of a few weeks, Mr. and Mrs. Alan 
Stuart returned to Massachusetts, and settled in one of 
the suburban towns, near the capital. He commenced 
his labors, by giving his services to a needy church unable 
to settle a pastor; opened an evening school, and sought an 
acquaintance among the poor. The work was carried on 
in the same manner, as that in England. Plans for the 
new home at ‘‘Happy Haven” had been received and ac- 
cepted; and it was already in progress, under the efficient 
management of Mr. Frost. 

Mrs. Stuart was her husband’s helper, and valuable 
assistant in every good work. The dream of youth had 
been realized. She was a leader of the people! Though 
in a different way. The dream had been the exalted 
position attainable only by wealth, which drew its envious 
followers. The realization was the high calling to the 
Master’s service. It led through the humble ways of life 
among the weak and lowly. The noble work brought its 
own reward. The faltering speech, and tearful eye were 
sweeter thanks than the flattering praise of attendant friends. 

Truly, Violet Morriton had saved her life from being 
wrecked! She had grasped the anchor of hope, and was 
safe through all the storms of life! She had discovered 
that priceless pearl which brings true happiness to its 
possessor! Her heart beat in unison to the Master’s touch! 
The dissonance of the past was lost in a grand sweet har- 
mony! She was thoroughly in tune! 




AUG 21 I9«*‘ 




